


Avant Gardener

by sodium_amytal



Category: Rush (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, with a bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:46:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9521351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodium_amytal/pseuds/sodium_amytal
Summary: AU. 2015. With his husband John eight years in the grave, Alex returns to their summer home on Prince Edward Island to clean out mementos and put the house up for sale. He's resigned himself to living the rest of his life as though there's a vital piece missing, but the curious, eccentric stranger living next door rejuvenates Alex's interest in a second chance at love.





	1. Chapter 1

John died while Alex was approximately 30,000 feet over Idaho. At least, that's what Alex assumes from the time of death handed down to him by the coroner, since he didn't get the call until he'd landed at LAX almost an hour after John was declared dead.

Alex thinks about that a lot. He could have spent that time with his husband and been there when John died instead of going to work. But how the hell was Alex supposed to know John would choose that particular day to have a fatal heart attack? It's not his fault. It was a day like any other. John was healthy as a horse; Alex should have been the one lying on a cold metal slab in the morgue.

Eight years later, and Alex still feels the void in his life where John had been. He's tried to fill it with anything he could get his hands on and always come up feeling emptier than before.

His phone vibrates and rings on the night table by the bed. Alex pries open his eyelids, sleep rusting them closed like locks, and gropes for the noisy device. He answers the phone without even glancing at the screen. "Hello?"

"Dad?" Justin's voice sets Alex at ease, but also kind of puts him on edge. Since Justin became a partner at a successful law firm with a family of his own, he's not really the type to call his father for a friendly chat.

Immediately, Alex assumes something is wrong. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I just woke up."

Justin is used to Alex sleeping past noon since John died, so he doesn't comment on that. "Well, I wanted to ask you something. Did you ever figure out what to do with the vacation home? 'Cause this guy at the firm is looking to buy one, and I thought maybe if you hadn't sold it yet..."

"I never put it up for sale," Alex says.

The vacation home Justin's referring to is a quaint pastel blue two-story house located on Prince Edward Island. Alex and John bought it back in 2005 as a wedding present to themselves, and they spent the next two summers there until John died. Alex has never gone back since, as though it would be an insult to John's memory to return there alone.

"Oh. Well, maybe it's a good idea to go back. At least pack things up, y'know?" Justin seems to be treading 'move the fuck on, Dad' territory. Alex knows Justin's lack of desire to beat around the bush came from John. John didn't shy away from difficult conversations, but he didn't go looking for them either.

"Yeah, maybe." Alex isn't sure why his stomach curls with dread at the thought of returning to that house. They shared plenty of happy times there—most notably their honeymoon—so why should his death soil the memory of the whole thing?

"This buyer of yours..." Alex starts, not really sure where he's going with this.

"Potential buyer."

"Right. Does he know the history? I mean, if I don't sell, he'll understand why, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Dad, don't worry, okay? Just take a couple days to see how you feel about the house. No pressure."

It's not like Alex has anything better to do.

* * *

The next afternoon, his plane touches down at Summerside, a cozy little town near the west end of the island. He takes an Uber from the airport to the blue beach-style house where he once shared happier days with John. Alex remembers when they bought the house, how their furniture didn't arrive on time so they slept on the floor that first night, and John sank on his cock, and Alex heard his moans reverberate off the bare walls.

The lawn is still neatly trimmed and tended, courtesy of the hired groundskeeper. Nothing fancy. But the house next door, sitting on the corner of the street, has bright green grass and foliage, and fully-bloomed trees bursting from the ground. A white picket fence surrounds the backyard, and Alex sees colorful vegetation and flowers through the spaces between the boards.

No one lived there the last time Alex was here. He wonders how many houses on this street have new owners or none at all. A lot can change after almost ten years.

The key unlocks the front door, and Alex is stricken by a pang as soon as he steps inside. Everything remains as it had been when they lived here, as though Alex just stepped into a time capsule. Framed pictures of them on various vacations still sit on bookshelves and tabletops. Alex sets them facedown as he walks by. Not yet. Not here.

Most of John's possessions remain here. He'd left his estate divided up between Alex and the kids, the latter of whom took mostly personal mementos: photographs, vintage baseball cards, things that had been important to John. Alex wants to take the rest and bottle it all up, preserving the last remaining traces of John's essence in the world. A therapist would probably tell him that's weird, but that's why he doesn't go to therapy.

He steps out on the back porch to compose himself. The porch isn't much of one, a small space that opens up to a dead-end street and a few more houses. Sitting on the grass near the white picket fence next door is a fluffy white rabbit.

"What's up, doc?" Alex says.

The rabbit doesn't laugh (or answer), but Alex hadn't expected it to.

There's a large forest-like area east of here where the rabbit might have come from, though Alex isn't sure that's the case. Because he sees a disruption in the ground near the fence, as though the rabbit dug its way to freedom from behind it.

"Where'd you come from?" Alex moves closer, slow, trying not to startle the creature. The rabbit just looks at him as though daring him to try something.

A quiet voice says, "Hey!" and for the briefest moment Alex thinks it came from the rabbit, except he was looking right at the little bugger and nothing but its nostrils moved. Unless real life is like those really cheap live-action movies where they can't afford to animate the animal's mouth moving when it talks.

"Yeah, down here," the voice says, affecting a tough-guy Jersey accent. "Never seen you around before. You just move in or are you—" Laughter, then the voice is softer. "Do you seriously think the rabbit is talking? That's just precious."

Alex lifts his head and looks around. There's a guy peering over the fence next door, looking very amused by all of this. And he happens to be the weirdest-looking person Alex has ever seen in real life. He has long brown hair, ridiculously tiny, round glasses, and a nose that takes up most of his face. But somehow, he is oddly cute. "Hi," the stranger says with a wave. "That was me. Rabbits can't actually talk. At least not that I know of."

Alex steps around the rabbit and moves closer, because it would be nice not to be alone here, even if only temporarily. "Well, that's a relief. I think he dug out of your yard, though."

"Yeah, they do that sometimes."

"There's more?"

"They like my garden."

Alex is close enough now to peek over the fence. There's a small, lush garden inside, each plot marked with little signs to indicate what's growing beneath. There are cherry tomato plants and colorful flower beds and an orange tree. Two brown speckled rabbits hop around through the grass like they belong there.

"You don't chase them out?" Alex wonders.

The stranger shrugs. "I like them. They're cute. I feed them pellets so they don't tear up the plants."

"So you're like a crazy cat lady, except not a lady and no cats."

"But a little crazy for sure."

"'Crazy bunny man' sounds like a really bad pitch for a horror movie."

That makes him laugh, and the sound of it is startlingly sweet. He extends a hand. "I'm Geddy."

An unusual name for an unusual guy. Alex shakes his hand. "Alex. Nice to meet you, neighbor."

"Oh, that's your house? I never saw anyone go in or out, so I sorta assumed it was on the market."

"Me and my husband bought it ten years ago. Then he died, and... well, I haven't been back 'til now."

Geddy looks hurt by this, as though knowing about Alex's loss means he feels it too. "Oh shit. That's horrible. I'm sorry." If Geddy notices that Alex still wears his wedding ring, he doesn't mention it. "So what brought you back?"

"My son knows somebody who might be interested in buying the place. I figured that's as good a reason as any to come here and pack things up. But, I dunno, it's still hard."

"Maybe I could help," Geddy suggests, his voice soft and unsure, like he doesn't know if this is something Alex would rather do in private. "I'm a good listener, if you wanna talk. Sometimes that helps."

"I might take you up on that."

Geddy smiles. "Would you wanna come in for a drink?"

"Sure."

Geddy opens the gate, and Alex steps inside. They follow a cobblestone pathway to the front door, and the rabbits hop away, hiding in bushes.

The inside of Geddy's house is inviting and cozy, with warm lighting coming in through the curtains. A coat rack stands off to the side in the foyer with various coats and cold weather wear hanging from the hooks. The living room has coral-colored walls and a stone slab fireplace with a niche for the enormous flat-screen television. Above the fireplace hangs a serene painting of a lighthouse.

Geddy leads him into the dining room, which has another stone slab wall that features a built-in wine bar. A wall of windows brightens up the room. It's a stark contrast from the gloomy feel just next door.

"I'm surprised you didn't say it's too early to drink," Geddy says with humor, pulling two empty glasses out of the upper cabinet.

"For the last eight years, my motto has been 'it's five o'clock somewhere.' I think I've gained about five-hundred pounds from drinking."

"Well, you look great for a five-hundred-pound guy."

"I did a sit-up today, so that must be it."

Geddy laughs again, and Alex could get used to the sound of it. He opens a cabinet by his knees and pulls out two bottles of wine. "Red or white?"

Alex isn't a wine guy, but he gets the feeling Geddy is, and he doesn't want to embarrass himself by picking something that ends up tasting like jet fuel. "Bartender's choice."

"White it is, then." Geddy pops open the bottle and pours. "Better for day drinking, anyway." When he's finished, he sits at the dining table, bringing the glasses with him. Alex joins him and downs a long swallow. It's sweet and bubbly.

"So you know my story," Alex says. "What's yours? You didn't live here when me and John bought the house."

"I moved here about four years ago," Geddy says, his thumb and index finger playing with the stem of his wineglass; Alex tries not to stare. "After my divorce. But that's kind of an ugly word for it. It was more of a legal separation. Things just weren't working, and Nancy was unhappy, so we decided to split after our youngest got accepted to UBC. We thought it would be easier for her; she'd spend the summer with her friends and forget about her parents splitting up, her life would go on, and things would be okay."

"You gave your wife the house?"

Geddy shrugs. "She wanted to stay in the city. I was already retired, so it was sort of a no-brainer. I could've stayed too, but I thought a change of scenery would be good for me. Plus there's lots of wineries and seafood restaurants here; my first month here I felt like Templeton the rat from Charlotte's Web, just running around trying everything." He takes a drink, stretching out his legs underneath the table. "What about you? What was your life like before you came here?"

"I was a pilot. John was a mechanic, then he owned the auto shop where he worked. We had two great kids—" Alex stops, chuckles to himself. "We still have them. There's just no 'we' anymore." _Hasn't been 'we' in eight years,_ Alex thinks, and the thought sort of stuns him. Geddy probably thinks he's a total fucking bummer. Or a bomb of tears and grief waiting to explode.

But Geddy just asks, "What was he like? I mean, if you wanna talk about him."

Alex could talk about John all fucking day, because it's one of the few ways he feels closer to him. "He was really great. He was funny, gentle, and smart as a whip, but he never thought so. He could fix anything, 'cause he couldn't stand not being able to figure something out."

"How long were you together?"

"Almost forty years. We knew each other practically our whole lives; he lived on my street, so we were friends first. We started dating when we were fifteen or so."

"That's really sweet," Geddy says.

"What about you?"

"Nancy and I got together after high school. We were married about as long as you and John were"—it's really touching that Geddy counts their entire relationship as a marriage—"but... maybe we were too hasty. Towards the end Nancy felt caged in, like she wanted more than what I could offer. I don't blame her. We were kind of young and impulsive, and almost right after we got married we had our first child, so we got wrapped up in that, and before we knew it twenty years had gone by. Then we had Kyla and did it all over again."

Geddy looks like he's contemplating all his life choices that have led him here. "Nancy didn't think I was the one. And the worst part is I didn't think she was either. We didn't hate each other, and we raised two wonderful kids, but I think, if I had to do it all over again..." He shakes his head. "That's awful, isn't it?"

"I don't think so. I got lucky and found my soulmate, but some people don't. Maybe this is your chance to try again."

"Did you? Try again, I mean."

Alex stares into his glass. "My kids tried to help, setting me up on dates, but I didn't like any of them. Once they found out I was a widower, it's like I was this fragile baby who needed to be protected from talking about him or even thinking about what happened. By that point, John had been gone for a few years, so I could talk about him without crying or making everything really awkward. But beyond that, it just seemed pointless to be with someone who wasn't John."

"That's really romantic. Sad, but romantic. I wish someone felt that way about me."

Alex chuckles. "It's not too late. You'll find somebody. I mean, you've got a garden with rabbits hopping around like something out of a damn Disney movie. Total chick magnet." Geddy laughs. "What's with the garden anyway?"

"I started it when I first moved here," Geddy says after a drink. "I needed something to do. A distraction. It was either plant a garden or renovate the house, and I'm not much of a handyman. Plus it gave me an excuse to start an Instagram."

Alex snorts into his glass as he's taking another drink. "You have an Instagram?"

"It's just pictures of the garden, the rabbits, and some scenic places around here. Nothing too grandiose. But it gave me a little extra push on days when it was hard to get out of bed. I thought if I posted a picture, just one person appreciating it would make me feel like I accomplished something."

"Sweet, sweet validation." Alex finishes his glass and says, "I wanna see it."

Geddy flushes pink, a little embarrassed as he digs his phone out of his pocket and taps a few things on the screen. He slides it across the table to Alex. Just as Geddy said, there are pictures of flowers from the garden, cute shots of the rabbits, one of a hummingbird fluttering at a feeder, and a couple photos of various scenery on the island. And, of course, a couple shots of food, because no Instagram profile is complete without those.

"Very tasteful," Alex says, like he's some sort of connoisseur for this sort of thing.

"Everybody needs a hobby, right?"

"You don't have to be embarrassed. My youngest son, Adrian, is a social media manager for a movie studio in Vancouver. So this kind of thing isn't just for bored teenagers."

Geddy cocks an eyebrow. "Is that why you laughed when I told you?"

"I laughed 'cause you're full of surprises."

"Judge me all you want; you're the one who thought a rabbit could talk."

"Hey, he was pretty convincing."

Geddy smiles, his eyes crinkling at the edges behind his glasses. Alex feels a pang—of what, he isn't sure. "You got any food over there? I'll be shocked if there's anything that isn't stale or spoiled by now after, what, eight years?"

Alex hadn't really given that any thought. Oops. "I'll probably just order pizza or take-out. I don't really plan on being here long enough to justify a trip to the store."

"Well, then why don't you have dinner with me? Your pick."

"You're the one who actually lives here, so maybe you should pick."

Geddy looks surprised, like he hadn't expected Alex to agree. "Oh, okay! Well, there's a really great seafood place not too far from here. It has one of those aquarium walls, but instead of colorful fish swimming around, there's lobsters."

"So the lobsters can watch you eat their brethren? That's kind of fucked up."

"Then why are you laughing?"

"I think it's a medical condition." Alex grins.

* * *

Geddy drives them along the coast, and Alex spends a few moments gawking at the new developments that have arisen since his last visit here. There are quaint little shops and restaurants filling what was once empty space. In some ways, it doesn't feel like the same island Alex remembers, which makes it a little easier to be here again.

Alex distracts himself by asking questions. "You said you're retired too. What'd you do before?"

"I produced records for a bunch of different bands. I used to own a studio in Quebec, up around Morin Heights, but nowadays everyone has a digital studio, so I sold it a few years ago. The property value was still good. It would've made a nice place to retire if I were more of a hermit. And it gets really cold up there, which isn't good for my joints."

"Bet you can't have a nice garden there."

"For a month or so, yeah." Geddy chuckles.

"What bands did you produce? Anything I've heard of?"

"All sorts of different groups. Mostly Canadian acts. Our Lady Peace. Barenaked Ladies. April Wine. I did a Foo Fighters record once. That was fun. Back in the '80s it was"—he taps the steering wheel while he thinks—"Tears for Fears, Nik Kershaw, Phil Collins..."

"Wow. All over the place, huh?"

"I wanted to expand my horizons, see what I could do with different genres of music. It was fun while it lasted."

"And now you cultivate a garden and take care of rabbits."

"What do you do?" Geddy asks, almost challenging, but there's a friendliness to his voice that belies any antagonism.

Alex has to think about his answer. His life since John left has been staggeringly boring. "I took up golf. And sometimes I paint, but I haven't been feeling artsy lately. Most of the time, I'm reading. I like being able to disappear into another world for a few hours. I guess that's why I liked coming here." He watches the scenery scroll past the passenger window. "It felt removed from everything I knew. Like another world."

"But you're not staying." Geddy tries to sound casual, but even Alex hears the hint of regret there. "You're selling the house, aren't you?"

"I don't know. I'm still not sure how I feel about it yet. Maybe spending the night there will help me see something, for better or worse."

The restaurant is decked out with shiny surfaces and expensive-looking tablecloths and napkins. They sit at one of the booths by the lobster aquarium, and occasionally Alex will tap on the glass and draw the ire of a nearby crustacean.

"I don't think you're s'posed to do that," Geddy tells him.

"I don't see a sign."

"Well, it's just mean-spirited. It's like if you lived in a house that was all windows, and some smartass comes around knocking on them."

"Knock at your own risk, 'cause I'd walk around naked."

Geddy laughs, shaking his head in an 'I can't believe this goofball' sort of way as he cracks open the wine menu. A basket of rolls is delivered to the table, and Alex realizes that he's starving. He tries to scarf one down without looking like he was raised by wolves. Whether it works is unknown, because Geddy's not looking at him, still focused on the wine list.

"Okay," Alex starts, peering over Geddy's shoulder to look at the menu, "I really don't know anything about wine, so you're gonna have to clue me in here. I just sort of buy it based on how cool the label looks. Or if the name is silly."

"What are you ordering? Reds go with food that has a lot of fat, 'cause the fat gets washed away by the tannins in the wine. Tannins give it that bitter flavor, and your ability to taste them is genetic, so if you've never liked red wine that's probably why."

"I knew I was doing this all wrong," Alex says, bewildered.

Geddy huffs a soft chuckle. "I obsess over wine the way nerds obsess over Star Wars."

"So by that comparison, does that make tannins like midichlorians?"

Geddy glares at him. "We can't be friends if you're gonna acknowledge the prequels."

Alex laughs. "John hated 'em too."

"He had good taste. How'd he put up with you?" Geddy says with a smirk, playfully nudging Alex with an elbow.

"The sex was pretty great," Alex jokes before his brain can tell him _no no shut up what are you doing._

But Geddy just chuckles like it doesn't bother him. Or because he's imagining it. Whatever. Alex won't split hairs if it means making Geddy laugh, which has become somewhat of a goal for him lately.

The waitress stops by the table and smiles when she sees Geddy. "Geddy, you brought a friend! What's the occasion?"

"No occasion. He's just hungry," Geddy says, seeming a little embarrassed that his habitual solitude has been pointed out.

"I own the house next door to him. He thought it was abandoned," Alex explains. "So he's trying to figure out my secrets."

"That's your house?" she asks, and Alex senses there's a history between her and Geddy. "Wow! I would've bet money no one lived there."

"No one did, at least for a while. It's a long story. I'm sure Geddy will catch you up later."

She takes their orders and leaves to fetch the overpriced bottle of wine Geddy ordered. When she returns, she asks him, "You think you could spare one of those bunnies? Maybe the little speckled one?"

"Babs eats a lot. You sure you can handle that?" Geddy says.

"She's as big as my fist. How much could she eat?"

"Alright, well, next time you're in the neighborhood, let me know, and she's yours."

She smiles, ruby red lips sliding over perfect white teeth. "Thank you! You're the best!"

When she walks away, Alex asks, "Did you really name one of the rabbits after Streisand?"

Geddy snorts. "No, Babs Bunny. From Tiny Toons."

Alex scratches his chin as though in deep thought. "I can't decide if that's worse. But now I need to know all the other names. And shut up, I know you named them all."

Geddy does a pouty, smirky thing with his mouth, like he wants to argue but knows Alex can read him too well already. "Babs and Buster, from Tiny Toons. Roger and Jessica from Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Bugs, of course. Lola, from Space Jam, or that new Looney Tunes show. Peter, as in Peter Cottontail. Thumper, from Bambi. And Trix. Like the cereal mascot. March Hare—Alice in Wonderland. Velveteen. And Bonnie... from this dumb video game my daughter's obsessed with."

Alex hasn't laughed this hard in ages. "Holy shit. Also, are you and that girl, like, a thing?"

Geddy looks horrified. "No! I'm old enough to be her father."

"Some guys are into that."

"I'm not," Geddy says.

"She knows about the rabbits, which, I told you: total chick magnet."

"Her parents live on our street. So she's seen them. It's not like I go around telling people I have twelve rabbits in my backyard. Also"—Geddy gives Alex a curious look—"why'd you ask about the rabbits' names first?"

"It seemed like the weirder thing," Alex says, sipping at the wine. "Though now it's weirder you and her aren't a thing. You sure you're not gay? I mean, if you are, hey, you're in good company. I'm the last person to judge."

Geddy shakes his head with a tiny laugh. "I was married to the same woman for almost forty years."

"And you got divorced," Alex says, like he's proving a point. "Who gets divorced at our age?"

"Lots of people."

Alex waits for him to provide examples.

Geddy shrugs. "Elizabeth Taylor?"

"Oh, you're doing an awesome job proving the 'not gay' thing."

Geddy chuckles. "Well, it's impossible to prove a negative, so I'm at a bit of a disadvantage. But think what you want. It doesn't bother me."

Over dinner, Geddy tells Alex a few amusing anecdotes from his time as a record producer. Alex listens and occasionally interjects with jokes, but for the most part he's quiet. He likes listening to Geddy talk, likes watching the way he gestures with his hands, likes the nervous little laugh he makes when he thinks he's rambled too long.

"Am I talking too much?" Geddy asks at one point.

"No, go ahead. Usually I'm the talker. This is a nice change of pace."

"Really? I'm usually the listener. So this is weird for me."

"I'd talk more about myself, but I wanna keep some mystique."

"Those two things don't sound like they go together. You seem like an open person."

Alex refills his wine glass. "John thought so too. He said I'm terrible at hiding how I feel. 'S'how he knew I had a crush on him way back when. Then the kids figured out how to read me, and I could never keep anything a surprise."

Geddy has a very specific smile he wears when Alex talks about his past; it's like he's watching a video of kittens learning to walk. "I'm picturing you guys having the most perfect marriage in the world. Please tell me you fought at least once."

Alex laughs. "Sometimes, yeah. Nothing really earth-shaking, but—shit, this isn't helping, huh? Well, one I can remember is when I thought he wanted to cheat on me. I didn't think he'd actually do it, but we'd been together for about twenty years by that point, and I thought he was just settling, like he felt trapped. I'd look in the mirror and think, 'Jesus Christ, I'm the fattest person I've ever seen,' and I couldn't imagine John still being attracted to me. None of it was anything he did, I just... didn't like myself."

A lobster floats to the edge of the glass tank, like he's listening. Alex taps the glass and shoos him away. "Most of us 'fighting' about it was me being distant and bitchy. John was as sweet as could be, which just made me feel worse. But when we finally talked about it he laughed and said he thought I was the one cheating."

"So your marriage pretty much was perfect."

"Except for one tiny detail."

* * *

Alex pays for their food; Geddy has extended enough charity today, so it's time for Alex to reciprocate. The sun has almost set as they drive home underneath a cotton candy sky. Alex watches the sleepy harbour town roll by in patches of houseboats and yachts and white boardwalks that thin out into a more traditional neighborhood with massive houses and yards.

They pull into Geddy's driveway. Alex wants to go inside and finish off the wine they left on the dining room table and maybe watch a movie together, but he'd rather not overstay his welcome. Alex has the type of personality that's best in small doses, and Geddy seems like an introvert who's not used to being bombarded with conversation and demands on his time.

"I think I'm gonna call it a night," Alex says. "Alcohol makes me sleepy, and I'm still a little jet-lagged from the flight. You think I'd get used to that."

"Which one?" Geddy teases.

"Well, both." Alex chortles. "Thanks for hanging out with me. You've made an old man happy."

"We're the same age," Geddy laughs. As Alex's hand covers the passenger door handle, Geddy says, "Maybe I can come over tomorrow and help? If you don't mind."

"That's probably a good idea. It'll make things go faster. So I guess I'll see you then."

When Alex gets inside the house, he feels utterly drained, as though the impending task of packing up the remnants of his life with John has sapped his spirit. He takes a shower and falls into bed.

He really hopes Geddy shows up tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

It's 9 a.m., and someone's ringing the doorbell. Alex crawls out of the warm bed and staggers to the window. He sees Geddy standing on the front steps, flannel shirt swaying in the gentle island breeze. The sight of him arouses excitement in Alex's veins. Alex can't remember the last time he was excited for anything.

He makes it downstairs just as Geddy's ringing the bell for the second time. Alex opens the door, and a smile makes its way onto his face when he sees Geddy. "Hey! You actually showed up! It's a little early though."

"I wanted to offer you breakfast first." Geddy quickly peers over Alex's shoulder into the dark space of the house. "Something tells me you don't have much in there."

"Well, you're right."

Geddy lifts a curious eyebrow; Alex can't figure out how he does that without altering anything else on his face. "What were you going to do if I didn't show up?"

Alex hasn't really thought any of this through. He shrugs. "Call an Uber. Go to a donut shop."

Geddy shakes his head like he thinks Alex is hopeless. "Come on over, but maybe put some pants on first." He flicks a quick, shy glance at Alex's lower half before looking away, and—

Oh, hell.

Not only has Alex answered the door wearing only a flimsy t-shirt and boxer shorts, but he's also sporting a morning erection that lifts his shorts like a tent pole.

"I swear, this has never happened before."

Geddy laughs, blushing madly as he turns away. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Wait, this is the part where you tell me it happens to every guy!" Alex calls after him.

He can hear Geddy's laughter until he disappears next door.

Geddy must think Alex is the most embarrassing person alive. But that doesn't seem to be stopping him from inviting him over for breakfast or enjoying his company. So maybe it doesn't matter that Alex is a walking disaster.

After getting his hard-on in order and more clothes on his unimpressive body, Alex heads next door. He knocks, hears Geddy call, "it's open," from inside, so Alex lets himself in. Like this is something they do all the time.

Geddy's sitting at the dining table, one leg tucked underneath the other as he scrolls through his phone. There's a mug of coffee nearby and small parfait topped with cereal and dried fruit.

"Just 'cause you keep rabbits doesn't mean you have to eat like them," Alex says.

Geddy gives him a prissy look over the rims of his glasses. "You answered the door with an erection. You don't get to sass me."

"Do I detect a hint of envy? Y'know they make pills for that sort of thing."

Geddy snorts. "Dream on."

Alex doesn't want to rummage through Geddy's kitchen like he lives here, so he just pours himself a bowl of whatever heart-healthy, cardboard-flavored cereal is on the countertop. John used to eat this kind of garbage health crap when Alex wasn't home to cook for them, and suddenly Alex is stricken with a pang that he's still here, Mr. Cholesterol-probably-through-the-fucking-roof, while John, who took care of himself and watched his diet, died of a heart attack at fifty-three.

Geddy glances away from his phone and looks at Alex.

"What?" Oh God, did he do something else embarrassing?

"You got quiet. I thought something was wrong."

"I was just thinking."

"Oh, that's never good," Geddy says with a gentle smile.

Alex joins him at the table, and they eat in a comfortable silence until Alex's phone chimes in his pocket. He digs it out to find a text from Justin: _everything ok?_

Alex writes back: _yeah. Haven't started on the house yet. The guy next door is distracting me._

Justin's response comes almost immediately: _Tell him to fuck off._

Alex laughs and types: _No he's nice. And kinda cute. We're BFFs already._

He attaches an emoji, knowing full well how much that plus Alex's lame attempts at hip text lingo will irritate Justin. There's no reply, so Alex knows Justin stared at the screen with a frown before putting away his phone.

Hey, he's still a dad.

"Was that one of your kids?" Geddy asks.

Alex nods and pockets his phone. "He acts tough, but he's worried about me."

"Because of the house? And what it means?"

Another nod.

"How was it, by the way? Your first night back."

Alex shrugs. "Not as bad as I thought, but that's probably 'cause I was tired."

"I hate to sound like a cliché, but it'll get better. You're doing this eight years later, not eight days. So at least you have some distance."

"I don't know if I even wanna sell the place," Alex admits. "It feels like the last link to him, y'know? If I get rid of that, what's left?"

"You have your memories."

"Memory is infallible. At our age we can't really depend on that."

"Speak for yourself," Geddy teases, earning a smile. "But I kind of know where you're coming from. It's nowhere near what you went through, but I lost my father when I was twelve. And I wanted to hold on to everything he left behind for as long as I could. My mother was the opposite. She wanted everything gone, except for important stuff like pictures, mementos, or things he cherished when he was alive. She kept telling me, 'having all these things won't bring him back.'"

"Your mom sounds like a tough lady."

"She and my father met in a concentration camp, so... she sorta had to be."

"Jesus." And Alex thought his own life had taken a turn for the dumpster. He doesn't know shit, apparently.

"Sorry," Geddy says with a soft chuckle. "Didn't mean to bum you out. Just providing some perspective."

Alex considers what Geddy's told him. Hoarding all of John's possessions certainly hasn't helped him move on. If he's honest, it's probably hindered his ability to move past John's death, because keeping his clothes in the closets and his record albums shelved and their shared bathroom cabinets still stocked with his half-used bottles of aftershave and vitamins and health supplements just reinforces the idea that he's coming back.

Does keeping those things make Alex feel closer to John, or more alone than ever?

"There's a winery about an hour from here," Geddy tells him, because Alex has gone suspiciously quiet again. "They let you pick some of the grapes. I mean, if you want." He shrugs like it's not important, but Alex knows a hint when he hears one.

"That sounds like the most boring thing in the world. I'm in."

* * *

Geddy pilots them down the country highway in his silver-blue Sonata, music playing quietly through the car speakers, and Alex wants to bring up anecdotes about the songs he recognizes ("Adrian was obsessed with this band when he was a teenager!" "Me and John saw them in concert!" "The bassist for this group was on one of my flights, and he was so drunk he had to be escorted off the plane. It's always the bassist, eh?"), but he doesn't want to be that guy who's always making everything about him.

How do people make friends anymore? Alex thought he knew, but now he's second-guessing all the thoughts in his head before they become words. He didn't used to be like this. Talk first, think later has been his mantra the past fifty or so years, and it's served him pretty well, earning him the reputation of a lovable goofball. But now that same attitude might make him look like a dumb old guy.

Why does he care so much what Geddy thinks of him?

As though sensing Alex's desire to talk, Geddy asks, "Have you been to this part of the island before?"

"Yeah, a few times. Once we drove all the way east just to see what was there. Spoilers: it's a lighthouse."

"There's a lot of those, 'cause, y'know, it's an island," Geddy says, like he thinks Alex is a total moron. Which isn't inaccurate, since that's the impression Alex gives most of the time. "What did you and John like to do when you were here?"

Since Geddy's asking... "We drove around and saw the sights. Tried every restaurant. Laid on the beach. Got laid on the beach."

"Oh dear."

"It's not as great as the movies make it look. Unless you like digging sand out of all your crevices for a week." Alex glances at him. "It probably wouldn't be too bad for you, but I'm like Jabba the Hutt over here—"

Geddy laughs and immediately covers his mouth with a hand, like he didn't mean to find humor in Alex's poor body image. "You need to stop making me laugh. I'm trying to drive."

"I've never had that problem. But my co-pilots weren't very funny."

"Oh yeah, you were a pilot, huh? What was that like?"

"Not as exciting as Airplane! made it look."

"Surely you can't be serious."

Now it's Alex's turn to laugh. "Looking back, I was away from home a lot. I tried to bring back souvenirs for John and the kids so they wouldn't take it too hard, but, y'know..." Alex watches the green plains roll by outside the window. "At least I had a cool job my kids could brag about. None of that boring 'my dad's an accountant' shit."

"What's the furthest you've been out of the country?"

Alex takes a moment to think about that one. "Japan, I think. And I'd always be pretty fucked up for a couple days afterwards 'cause of the time difference and all that time in the air just sitting and being bored."

"You're flying a plane. How can you be bored?"

"Honestly they kinda fly themselves. You just have to watch for other planes and make sure you're not out of gas or losing parts. I mean, it's not _that_ simple, otherwise any jackass could do it, but when you know what you're doing it can get kinda boring."

"Well, I'm never flying again," Geddy says with a sly laugh.

The winery is nestled in a cozy plot of land somewhere outside of Charlottetown. The owners seem to know Geddy, as they're surprised he's brought someone along. This seems to be a recurring theme with him. Geddy leads Alex across the lush land to the vines he claims produce a lighter Pinot. The vines all look the same to Alex, so he's taking Geddy's word for it.

When they reach the proper block, Alex finds there are actually other people here who don't look like hired help. "People actually do this? Voluntarily?" he wonders aloud as Geddy kneels down and begins clipping grape clusters off the vines. "Like, for fun?"

"I do."

"Well, I already knew _you_ were a weirdo."

Geddy makes that prissy face again. "You took up golf. You don't get to judge my hobbies."

"At least golf has those groovy clothes." Alex kneels beside him to help. Geddy's hands weave effortlessly through the vines, snipping and plucking like a seasoned pro. Alex can't keep up, but he doesn't think Geddy will judge him for it.

"Oh, you poor thing. You must have been dropped on your head if you think those clothes are groovy in any way." There's a smirk at the corner of Geddy's mouth, and Alex feels something resurface that he hasn't felt in a long time.

Alex and John had hit it off right from the start, forging a solid relationship through dumb jokes and friendly insults. And since the moment Alex and Geddy met they've been volleying quips and talking like they've known each other longer than two days. In his short-lived time dating after John's death, Alex wasted too many dinners with men who didn't get his jokes or share his sense of humor. Putting aside the possibility that Alex cracks jokes to cover his sense of inferiority, humor is important to him, and the idea of spending the rest of his life with someone who simply tolerates his eccentric witticisms is unfathomable.

Not that he's considering Geddy as a potential date or boyfriend or anything other than a friend in a time of need. It's just an observation. After all, John was Alex's best friend before they became lovers. They wouldn't have lasted almost forty years if there wasn't a solid foundation. That's all Alex is pointing out here, that this could be the start of a great friendship.

"You're questioning my fashion choices in those glasses?" Alex snipes back, because Geddy looks like a John Lennon wanna-be best left in the seventies. "And shave that stupid thing on your chin or commit to growing an actual beard." Alex grins, and Geddy playfully jabs him with the dull end of the clippers.

Plucking the grapes takes so much longer than Alex expected. But if it took them about an hour to drive out here, a fifteen-minute session would be a waste. Alex is a shameful mess, the sweat stain on the back of his shirt showcasing how out of shape he is. Geddy, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be bothered at all.

Christ, he does this all the time, doesn't he? That's why the owners of the vineyard know him, and he's used to working in his garden, which is why he's not sweating like a pig.

Alex feels like this has to be an elaborate prank on him, but he's not sure what the punchline is. Anyone with eyes can tell he's fat and pathetic. And something tells him Geddy's not a douchebag who would set him up to be humiliated; Alex can humiliate himself all on his own.

Clearly, Geddy is lonely (socially satisfied people don't own twelve rabbits) and wants someone to hang out with, and Alex has been chosen as his lucky companion. That's cool; Alex has spent the last eight years being lonely. He knows what it's like.

"Are you okay?" Geddy asks. "You're really sweaty."

"As a matter of fact, in-shape people sweat more easily. Meanwhile, here you are not sweating one damn bit."

Geddy's quiet, like he's either impressed or bewildered by this seemingly random fact.

"John was a health nut," Alex says by way of explanation. "And he read a lot of smart people magazines."

"'Smart people magazines'?" Geddy doesn't say more, but he doesn't have to; that tone conveys a lot.

"I just like the pretty pictures. I don't read so good," Alex says in a cartoonishly stupid voice, and Geddy laughs. Alex is becoming addicted to that sound, to the musical textures of Geddy's laughter.

Geddy tucks a piece of long brown hair behind his ear, and there's this brief moment where he looks at Alex like he wants to say something but stops himself. Before Alex can urge him to say it anyway, Geddy says, "We can head back if you want. It's been an hour. That's not too bad."

"That's as long as it took to drive here."

"So we'll spend some time in the city. They've got a pretty good burger place."

"Look, just 'cause I'm fat doesn't mean you can bribe me with food." A beat, then: "I'm just fucking with you. Of course you can."

Once Alex gets up and starts moving back to the parking lot, the soft breeze dries him off so he's not a disgusting, sweaty mess when he sits in Geddy's clean leather interior. Then Geddy switches on the A/C in a blast of cool air, and Alex sighs happily.

They travel into the city for food, then Geddy drives to an observation point where they can eat and take in the view of the Charlottetown lighthouse. They eat cheeseburgers in the comfort of leather seats and air-conditioning, and although Geddy warned Alex not to dirty up his car, he doesn't seem to mind too much when Alex brushes french fry crumbs off his pants.

"Why'd you move here?" Alex wonders, jostling the ice in his drink. "Honeymoon destination?"

Geddy shrugs. "I just liked it, I guess. I'd been here before. Family vacation. Back when things were good. My daughter was conceived here."

"Gross," Alex says, faking disgust.

"Serves you right, Mr. Sex on the Beach."

"So you have tried it!"

Geddy has this pouty face he makes when he's trying not to laugh, and Alex finds it adorable. "I never said that."

"Oh, sure, like you're gonna go to an island just to bone at a bed-and-breakfast."

"Nancy wasn't very adventurous when it came to sex," Geddy says, like this is somehow his fault. "Keeping the lights on was about as far as she'd go."

"Jesus, you might as well be a virgin."

Geddy rolls his eyes with affection. "Did you and John ever join the Mile High Club?"

"Hey, I had to fly the plane."

"You could'a brought him to the cockpit. I'm sure there's a reason it has that name."

Alex snorts a laugh.

Geddy does that hair-tucking thing again, glances at Alex for a brief moment. "I hope this isn't rude—"

"Oh boy!" Alex rubs his hands together with glee. "Let's see where this goes!"

"But, um, are you gay or bisexual or something else I'm too out of touch to know exists?"

"You're awfully interested in my sex life, Ged," Alex jokes.

"Just say 'fuck off, Geddy,' if I'm stepping over a line."

Alex scoffs. If he has personal boundary lines, this isn't one of them. "If you're out of touch, then so am I. I don't really know what I am."

"So you just saw John one day and thought, ' _yeah, nice_ '?"

"I thought about making out with him first. But I was young and still figuring shit out, so I brushed it off as just being curious if kissing a boy would be different than kissing a girl. But then I thought about sucking his cock, and it was too... graphic for me to write it off as curiosity."

"How did you tell him?"

"His parents worked late a lot, so I'd go over to his house and hang out. He'd get into his dad's liquor cabinet, and we'd go down in the basement and drink. One night I was kind of shitfaced, and I did that thing you do when you're drunk where you basically have no filter, and I must've said he had a cute mouth or that I wanted to kiss him. So he called me a fucking homo and kissed me. It was really romantic. We made out for ten minutes. With tongue. That was actually my first kiss."

"Could'a been worse," Geddy says, sounding impressed.

"What about you? First kiss stories, c'mon."

"I was eighteen. Nancy was sick of dating guys who ended up being assholes. So I guess dating her brother's nerdy friend was a step up. We went to a movie, then I walked her home afterward, and I kissed her in a really rare moment of confidence. After we were married, she told me she knew everything about who I was when I kissed her, because I wasn't pushy or overconfident like most guys."

"So you were kind of a wuss."

Geddy does that pouty thing with his face again. "She thought I was sweet."

 _So do I_ , Alex thinks.

Where the fuck did that come from?

But it's not like Alex is wrong. Geddy is witty and clever and kind. And sweet, like a fruity, bubbly wine. John had been sweet on occasion, but mostly to poke fun at the overly-saccharine sentiments so often associated with romance. Geddy seems to embrace these things whole-heartedly with zero irony. There's something refreshing about that, about someone who's stopped giving a fuck about pretenses, or never gave many fucks about them to begin with.

This unspoken sentiment, however, throws Alex for somewhat of a curve, and he's not as jokey with Geddy during the drive home; the lighthearted banter they've been dealing in could be mistaken for flirtation, and Alex isn't sure how he feels about that yet. He's resisting the idea that he might have a crush on Geddy, because it's ridiculous and impossible. But he can't deny that he's treating Geddy like John by effortlessly quipping with him and opening up like he's making an actual investment in this shaky friendship. Because Alex is only here temporarily, the house a short pit-stop in his journey to accepting and moving past John's death. There's no sense in forging a bond like this with someone who's only a short chapter in your life's book.

Alex feels a prick of sadness at the thought of leaving Geddy behind.

"I said something wrong, didn't I?" Geddy finally asks when they pull into his driveway.

"What? No way."

"I can't help but feel we always part like this."

"'Cause I'm old, Ged. And old fat guys get tired real fast. It's a miracle I can walk to the mailbox without needing a nap."

"You sure I didn't bum you out or poke at something I shouldn't?"

"I'll call you a dickhead if you're being one. And you're not, so don't worry about it." Alex smiles to show he's sincere, which isn't hard when he's looking at Geddy.

Geddy smiles back, eased by the gesture. "If you insist."

"Thanks for carting me around today. I'm probably a huge pain in the ass, but—"

"I'll call you a dickhead if you're being one," Geddy says, and Alex laughs.

"Have a good evening, Ged," Alex says as he gets out of the car.

"It's three in the afternoon."

"Oh boy, dinnertime!"

Alex hears Geddy's laughter from the car until he's inside the house.

* * *

Alex has a recurring dream where he's in a dimly lit restaurant, sitting across from John. It's just the two of them, and Alex catches John up on the kids and his own life. Sometimes they share memories of their past, sometimes it's things they wish they had done together.

But this time is different.

John's sitting across from Alex again, but this time there's a figure cloaked in shadow near a window seat. Which makes zero sense, but, whatever. Dream world. The longer Alex stares, the more he thinks he recognizes Geddy sitting there alone, because he knows that profile already.

"What's he doing here?" Alex murmurs to himself.

"You tell me. It's your dream," John says.

Alex pulls back and looks at him. John never ages in the dream, so he's eternally frozen at fifty-three. Alex feels fat and old in comparison, but the last time he didn't feel that way was 1983.

Alex doesn't answer, so John says, "Alright. I'll take a crack at it. You have a crush on him."

"What? No, I don't!" Alex is almost offended.

"You're blushing."

"It's the wine."

John lifts an eyebrow. The table is bare, topped with nothing but a tablecloth and one of those LED candles restaurants use nowadays so no one's sleeve catches on fire.

"So he's a little eccentric," John says, "and one of the weirdest-looking dudes I've ever seen, but, hey, whatever makes you happy."

Alex shakes his head, trying to shake away the words. "No, he's just a friend. I'm probably just confusing the two 'cause I really need a friend now."

John sucks in a breath through his teeth, clicking his tongue in a chiding manner. "I can read you, remember? It's like a superpower. And I can tell you have a huge, throbbing crush on"—John peers over his shoulder—"what's his name? Gary—"

"Geddy."

"Right. Geddy." John gives Alex a tender look, one that makes Alex feel like he does indeed have a superpower: x-ray vision. "It's okay if you like him. Who're you saving yourself for? I'm dead. If you were waiting for permission, here it is. Go get 'im, tiger."

"This is so fucked."

"Don't complain to me. It's your dream."

"You keep saying that... What if I wanna stay? What if I don't wanna wake up?"

John's expression changes, looking hurt. "Don't break my heart like that, Lerxst."

Hearing that nickname from John again makes Alex's chest ache. The loss is stronger now, a rush of pain that temporarily stuns him. "What am I s'posed to do then? It's been eight years, and I haven't found anyone even half as good as you."

"'Cause you haven't been looking. But you got lucky and found somebody who might— _might_ —be able to take my place." John smirks. "So go for it. Ask him out."

"I don't—I don't think he's into guys."

"You didn't think I was either. And look how that turned out."

"I got lucky."

John sighs like Alex is being purposely obtuse. "He knows you were married to a guy, and it doesn't seem to bother him. He'd probably be flattered. I mean, look at him."

"Don't be a dick."

"I'm just saying, he's not a stud like me."

Even if it's just a dream and all part of Alex's subconscious, John's stupid sense of humor still warms him like a fire from within. "Neither am I."

"Then you're perfect for each other." John grins, reaching across the table for Alex's hand. "But just between you and me, I'd still do you. Maybe I have a thing for older guys."

Alex laughs again, but this one stings a little. "Shit," he murmurs as his throat swells. "I miss you."

"Yeah, me too. But if you don't at least try to hook up with this guy, I'm gonna haunt the shit outta you."

"I thought you were just a dream."

"Unfinished business, man. What do you think creates ghosts?"

Alex glances at Geddy again. At least, he thinks it's Geddy. In the shadows, it could be anyone, but there's a reason this mysterious stranger has intruded on what was once a private space, and it's not a coincidence that happens almost immediately after Geddy appears in Alex's life.

A long-forgotten part of Alex wants to take that chance and develop something with Geddy, but in doing so it's a silent confirmation that John is really gone, that Alex is moving on.

When he relays this to John, John smirks and says, "Jesus, it's been eight years, Lerxst. Get the fuck over me."

Alex laughs, but when he wakes up his cheeks are wet.


	3. Chapter 3

Geddy was right about the lack of anything edible in Alex's kitchen cabinets. Cereal, crackers, and potato chips have all gone stale, and any dairy products have become biohazards after ten years. Alex finds a box of teabags in the pantry and brews himself a cup.

The kitchen is open and airy, with a hardwood floor, white cabinets, and soft marble countertops. It had been the selling point for Alex, who wanted a spacious, inviting kitchen to facilitate his love for cooking. He has many fond memories of preparing dishes here, of being pushed against the island and the counters as John mouthed at his throat. Now, the wide berth granted by the room seems like too much, space that will never be used to its fullest potential. The cheery pops of colors in the chairs and décor feel out of place.

Part of Alex wants to sell the house and be done with it, but the other part wants to hold on fiercely to the last happy remnants of his life with John.

When his tea is finished, he pours the cup and heads out the back doors to the porch. He sits in one of the wooden chairs, takes in the view, and sips his tea. He checks his cell phone for messages, but since he's an hour ahead of Toronto, Justin and Adrian probably aren't awake enough to handle a stupid conversation with their dad. He considers texting one of them, but what would he say?

From next door, Alex hears Geddy's soft voice scolding one of the rabbits: "Trix, don't be a hog. There's enough for all of you."

Alex smiles despite himself. There's something weirdly cute about Geddy. Would John have liked him? Alex imagines the three of them gathered in the eat-in kitchen, laughing and trading anecdotes. The image holds for a bit before fading away. Alex tries to grab hold of it again, but it's fleeting, like trying to capture wispy trails of clouds.

Geddy's voice sounds again: "Will you hold on a sec?" Then he laughs in a helpless way, like he's being tickled, and Alex is intrigued enough to set down his tea and go next door to investigate.

Geddy's standing in his backyard, holding a bag of rabbit food and staring down at his feet.

"Need some help?" Alex offers, moving closer to the fence.

Geddy looks both pleased and embarrassed to see Alex here. "Oh, hey. I hope I didn't bother you."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm _so_ busy." Alex peers over the fence to see twelve rabbits swarming around Geddy's feet. He laughs. "What an adorable problem to have. Want me to play crowd control?"

Geddy scatters a handful of pellets, and the rabbits run off in search of the tasty morsels. "I'll be fine. Sometimes they get a little impatient."

"I know how they feel, man. Waiting for food is the worst." Alex notices Geddy is wearing jeans and sneakers and a shirt that doesn't look like he slept in it. "Why are you wearing real clothes? Just come out in your pajamas like everyone else."

"You're assuming I just woke up."

"Oh my God, it's, like, ten in the morning! You've already gone out somewhere?"

"Some of us are morning people."

Alex makes a face. "Ugh, I don't know if we can be friends anymore."

Geddy laughs and tosses out another handful to the rabbits. "Even if I offer you breakfast?"

"You're gonna have to do better than rabbit food."

"How's chocolate chip muffins sound?"

Alex gasps. "Oh, wait, they're not that fiber-enriched, fake-chocolate bullshit, are they?"

"Cut me some slack here," Geddy says with a tired smirk.

"Alright. You had me at muffins."

"Go on inside and make yourself at home. I'll be there in a minute."

Alex is strangely honored that Geddy's granting him access to the house like this. He opens the gate and slips inside, careful not to let any of the rabbits out, but they seem preoccupied with the grub anyway.

This is only the second time Alex has been inside Geddy's home, but it already feels familiar. He heads into the kitchen which, now that he thinks about it, is almost a mirror of his own. The white cabinets, the marble countertops, the window looking out into the backyard. The backsplash is a white and red pattern, but aside from that the whole room is almost exactly the same. On an intelligent level, Alex knows this is because the houses were probably built with similar floorplans—Geddy said he hadn't renovated, so this is the default design—but there's a weird feeling he can't shake.

He locates the muffins on the kitchen island, pulls up a chair, and digs in. Geddy said to make himself at home, right? The muffins taste a little oat bran-y, but whatever, Alex can't complain about free food. And he probably shouldn't be eating total garbage at his age anyway.

His phone buzzes with a text from Adrian: _you're at the vacation home?_

Alex writes back: _Word gets around fast._

Adrian: _Justin told me. He also said you met somebody._

Alex: _It's not like that. The guy's straight anyway. You know what they say about the good ones..._

If a rolling-eyes emoji existed, Adrian probably would have sent it. He settles for the open-mouthed sigh, like he's exasperated with Dad's dumb jokes already: _Do you know if you're gonna keep the house?_

Alex _: Don't know yet... I'll go through some things today and see how I feel._

Adrian: _Want me to come help?_

Alex sits back and consider this. It would be nice to have someone familiar, someone else who's impacted deeply by John's death. And if Adrian were here, Alex wouldn't be following Geddy around like a lost puppy.

As if sensing Alex's thoughts, Geddy comes through the door. "I'll join you in a sec. Leave some for me." He toes out of his sneakers, leaving them on the mat by the door. Then he disappears into what Alex assumes is a bathroom.

Alex looks at his phone. The message is still there, awaiting a response. How would Adrian feel about Alex's relationship with Geddy? Would he see it as something innocent, or jump to conclusions like Dream John had? And why would the latter bother Alex?

Alex types back: _I think I'll be OK._

Adrian: _If you're not, let me know and I'll be there._

Alex smiles, proud that he and John raised such a great kid. During his childhood Adrian gravitated more toward Alex, so he developed more sensitivity than his brother, who favored John. As a result, Adrian is more in tune with Alex's moods and emotions than Justin.

As Alex pockets his phone, Geddy emerges from the washroom and sits next to him at the kitchen island. "These aren't muffins," Alex says, his mouth half full. "They're lies."

Geddy rolls his eyes—Alex frequently elicits that reaction from people—and takes a muffin for himself. "That doesn't seem to stop you from eating them." The paper remains of Alex's first muffin lie on the countertop.

"I'm hungry." He swallows. "So what else do you have planned for today, you productive weirdo?"

"Nothing much," Geddy says with a shrug. "Didn't you want to start on the house?"

It's been two days since Alex arrived on the island, so he really ought to do the thing he came here to do. "Yeah."

"Well, then I'll help you. If you want."

Alex scoffs. "Of course I want you there. Otherwise I'm just gonna look at pictures and cry."

Geddy looks at him with pain creased on his brow. "It's really that bad?"

"I dunno. Maybe. But it'll be worse if I'm alone."

"Then it's settled."

* * *

After they finish breakfast, Alex brings Geddy over to his house. Geddy looks around as they step through the foyer, and Alex wishes he could see what Geddy sees. "Oh, it's really nice," Geddy says.

The living room has soft blue couches with colorful throw pillows, a brown floor rug, and a small coffee table, all facing the TV mounted above the fireplace. There are small bench seat nooks on either side of the fireplace, with a staircase on the left leading up to the bedrooms.

"It reminds me of a seaside cottage."

"Yeah, that was the vibe we were going for," Alex says.

If Geddy notices how some of the pictures are turned face-down, he doesn't mention it. He runs his fingertips over the smooth white walls, as though expecting to pick up layers of dust. But housekeepers have come by every month to dust and maintain upkeep.

"This is probably another 'fuck off, Geddy,' question—"

"Oh boy," Alex says, genuinely excited.

"But... did John die here?"

"Oh, fuck no. You really think I would be here right now if he had?" Alex shakes his head in horror at the possibility. "No, he died at his office. Or on the way to the hospital. I don't know. I wasn't—I wasn't there."

Geddy seems to hear the guilt in Alex's voice, because he gives him a tender look that feels like it's pulling Alex apart.

"I was at work. A flight from Toronto to L.A.."

"It's not your fault."

"I still should've been there."

"I don't think John's holding it against you."

"Yeah, well, I am."

Alex leads him to the kitchen, because he figures it's the easiest room to clean out. Everything's pretty much spoiled or stale, and tossing things out will give Alex a sense of accomplishment. One step at a time.

Geddy plays music on his phone to fill the gaps of silence while they work, but most of the time they're talking about something. "I think my son wants to come here and help," Alex says, emptying the cabinets.

"Maybe you should let him. It might be a good father-son bonding sort of thing. How often do you see him?"

"He's busy with work and his kids—Jesus, I'm a grandpa, how fucked up is that?—but we text a lot."

"Doesn't count," Geddy says with a shake of his head. "Did he offer?"

"Yeah..."

Geddy sighs, turning toward Alex with his hands on his hips, a pose that does nothing for his heterosexuality. "But you're here doing this with me?"

"You're an unbiased party," Alex pleads, because he feels like he's in trouble for something. "If it's just me and Adrian, who's gonna put us back in line when we get all teary and pathetic?"

"Maybe you both need to grieve."

"What the fuck do you think I've been doing the past eight years?" Alex says with an irritated laugh.

There's a small shift in Geddy's expression, like he fears he's crossed a line. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to overstep. I offered to help 'cause I didn't think you had anyone else. But it doesn't feel right. It should be someone who loves him, not some stranger who just happens to live next door. If your kids are willing to help you... I think it's more important to spend time with them than me."

Alex sighs, hating himself for being selfish and stubborn, hating John for dying and leaving him alone, and hating Geddy for being right. He takes his phone out of his pocket and texts Adrian: _Maybe you should be here. But don't go to any trouble or anything._

"I don't know what the fuck's wrong with me," Alex murmurs.

"You're just lonely," Geddy says, moving closer, and for a moment it seems like he might physically reach out, but he doesn't, and Alex is both relieved and disappointed. "There's nothing wrong with that."

Adrian texts back: _I'll be there tomorrow morning._

What a great kid, Alex thinks, willing to drop everything and help his dipshit, lonely dad.

Geddy stays and helps Alex with the kitchen, since nothing in there is really personal. They take frequent breaks, sipping diet sodas from the fridge, and talk about their kids, grandkids, their past lives with past loves. The sun's beginning to set when Alex's stomach makes a loud, rumbly noise that's impossible not to hear.

Geddy smothers a laugh behind his hand. "Hungry?"

"Yeah, just a bit. Why don't we go back to your place, and I'll cook something?"

"I have a better idea," Geddy says, rubbing that goofy patch of hair on his chin that Alex occasionally wants to rip off. It looks like a bad velcro strip slapped onto his face. "Why don't we make something here?"

Alex huffs a laugh. "I don't know if you've noticed, Ged, but we threw out all my fuckin' food."

"So go next door and get the food. But cook it here."

"That sounds like a lot of extra effort."

"I think it's a good step for you to cook something in this kitchen for the first time without John. You don't want to disturb things here because you're afraid of what it will mean if you do. You cook for yourself at home, right?"

Alex shrugs. "Not much of a reason to make anything fancy anymore, but yeah. Sometimes."

"So you had to get past that 'this is the first time I'm cooking for one' fear once. You can do it again."

Geddy's starting to grate Alex's nerves, because he's right, and Alex doesn't want to face these things. But this is the no-bullshit attitude that comes with an unbiased party, so he's got no right to complain. He chose this. When Adrian shows up Alex can go back to being coddled.

Alex nods slowly. "Alright. Anything in particular you want?"

"Surprise me."

Geddy's cabinets and fridge are stocked with a terrifying amount of health foods and organic crap that Alex almost refuses to put into his body on principle. He's bitter about the concept, because John maintained a healthy diet and exercise regimen, and it did fuck-all for him in the end. He wants to shake Geddy and tell him, "none of this shit will save you," but what does he know? John had diabetes since he was a kid, so maybe there were complications that Alex and Geddy aren't susceptible to.

Alex has been staring in the fridge for almost a minute now just ruminating, his thoughts bouncing around in his head like pinballs. This is why he needs someone to rein him in and snap him out of these depressive mental spirals.

Alex manages to find enough ingredients for a decent chicken dish. There's no bacon, but Geddy seems to have a vendetta against greasy foods, so Alex isn't surprised by its absence. He loads everything up into two plastic bags and heads next door.

Alex just ends up distracted when Geddy's in the kitchen, so he banishes him to the dining area. Geddy sits and plays with his phone while Alex works. "If you could do it all over again, would you be a chef?" Geddy asks.

"I don't know," Alex says. "I never really thought about it before. I started cooking out of necessity. John was diabetic, so I had to make stuff he could eat. And when I was a kid, I helped my mom cook while she did other stuff around the house. So it was sort of just something I always did. I never really considered it as a career."

"You kinda avoided the question," Geddy says with a cute little smirk at the corner of his mouth.

"'Cause I don't know. I think a lot about what I would do differently, if maybe some seemingly insignificant choice would change something and John would still be alive. But I like the way my life turned out. Except for, y'know, that one big thing. I mean, I was with him almost forty years. Most people don't stay with one person that long."

Geddy smiles in a proud sort of way, like Alex has had a personal breakthrough. "You'd probably still be together."

"Probably. Jeez, he was too good to me. I still can't believe he wanted me even after I got fat and started losing my hair. I was so afraid he'd wake up one morning and look at me and go, 'Jesus Christ, what the fuck was I thinking?'" Alex laughs. "I used to be slim and beautiful once, if you can believe it."

"That's a really loaded statement," Geddy says, and Alex almost asks him what that's supposed to mean, but the oven timer goes off and distracts him, and the moment's lost.

They eat at the small dining area on the right side of the kitchen. Alex takes a chair, while Geddy stays tucked into the vinyl booth. "This is really good," Geddy says after a few bites.

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Goldfish can distinguish between styles of music."

"That I did not know."

"I read a lot of smart people magazines," Geddy says and tosses him a smile. Alex feels something swell in his chest. As though sensing this strange sensation in Alex's veins, Geddy diverts the conversation: "Did Adrian say he was coming?"

"He should be here tomorrow."

"That's good. I'll try to stay out of your hair."

Alex fakes a glare. "Okay, rude."

Geddy giggles and goes a little pink. "Sorry. You know what I mean."

"No, I don't. Just 'cause you have a full head of hair doesn't mean you're better than me," Alex says, but he can't keep a straight face, and neither can Geddy, because they're both laughing like idiots.

"If it makes you feel better, you can't really see it," Geddy says, referring to Alex's shameful bald spot near the back of his head. "From this angle."

Alex frowns at him. "Not making me feel better."

Geddy does that nervous hair-tucking thing, and Alex wants to keep flustering him just to see him do it again. "Sorry. I'm not so good with that."

Alex decides to throw caution to the wind and expose some honesty, because Geddy seems sensitive enough to carry this with him. "No, you are. Since John died, most mornings I'd just stay in bed and imagine our lives together. I didn't see the point in getting up and living in a world where he didn't exist. But since I met you... maybe it's corny, but I'm excited to see you. Okay, it's really corny, but that's just the kind of guy I am."

Geddy blushes harder, and maybe that wasn't something one guy should say to another, but Alex stopped caring about the shoulds and shouldn'ts of gender stereotypes ages ago.

Geddy glances at Alex's face, his hands, then down at his own plate. "Well, it's refreshing. Too many people don't say what they feel. Even if it's corny."

"I don't fuck with pretenses. Life's too short, y'know?"

"Yeah." For a moment, Geddy looks as though he wants to say something, but he doesn't speak, just goes back to his dinner. Alex has no clue what to do with these moments, if he should push or let them go, but his modus operandi lately seems to be letting them pass without a word.

After dinner, Geddy offers to help with the dishes, but Alex shoos him away, so in a rare moment of role reversal, Geddy is the first to call it a night. "Thank you for dinner," he says, sounding nervous, "but I think I'm gonna go."

"Dine and dash, huh? Dick."

Geddy lifts an eyebrow, his mouth a curious smile.

Alex shrugs. "Alliteration."

"Then I won't take it personally." Geddy laughs a weak sound and rubs the back of his neck just underneath his long hair. "I hope you and Adrian have a good time tomorrow. I mean, as good of a time as you can have considering the circumstances."

This man is drowning, and Alex needs to throw him a life raft immediately. "I get ya. Quit while you're ahead."

Geddy nods and moves for the front door. "I'll see you when I see you, I guess." He grabs his shoes from the mat by the front door, steps into them, and promptly flees like a vampire caught out at sunrise.

A little strange, since Alex is typically the one cutting their evenings short. But maybe it's nothing personal. Shit, Alex hopes it's nothing personal.

He lingers in the kitchen a while, meticulously washing dishes by hand. The dishwasher probably still works, but if he uses it he'll be finished with this task, and what then? So he continues this way for a while, thinking about John and Geddy and this confusing pretzel into which his gut's been twisted.

Okay, so maybe he does have a crush on Geddy. What's wrong with that? He wouldn't be the first gay man to develop feelings for a straight friend. And even if he entertains the possibility that Geddy might return these affections, so what? Alex isn't married anymore, despite the fact he still wears his wedding band. John has been dead for eight years, and if there's an afterlife he's probably watching Alex and wondering when the fuck he's going to get his shit together. Like John's binge-watching the most boring show on Netflix through an indeterminate amount of seasons. "When is this gonna get good?" he's probably asked himself countless times, but he has to see it through, because Alex is the star of this shitshow, and marrying him was a promise to stick it out through better or worse.

Alex ought to give John something at least halfway interesting to watch. Whether that's an awkward rejection or a clumsy, well-meaning love affair is up to Geddy. But nothing can happen if Alex still clings to a long-dead love. Nothing has happened for eight years, and it's not like Alex has been happy throughout them. It's time for a change.

That night, Alex places his wedding band on the night table before he goes to bed.


	4. Chapter 4

"You're over me? You son of a bitch."

Alex is back in the restaurant again, immersed in the hazy dream world where nothing quite makes sense. But John's sitting across from him with a cocky smirk on his cherubic face, like he didn't just utter complete blasphemy.

"I'll never be over you," Alex protests. "But I need to move on. I wanna be happy again. Maybe I'm too fat and male for Geddy, but I need to try."

"I'm just fucking with you, Lerxst. I'm glad you're giving it a shot. I hope he's half as good in the sack as I am."

"Present tense? Are you fucking someone else?"

John leans back in his chair, the picture of smugness. "Maybe, maybe not. You'll never know."

Alex shakes his head fondly.

"So if you wanna get back at me for the sex I may or may not be having..." John spreads his hands. "Geddy's a pretty viable option."

"You think he likes me?"

John snorts. "What are you, twelve? Maybe I should pass him a note in biology class."

"You were a bit less of a smartass when you were alive."

"Oh, Lerxst, your memory's fading. Pretty soon you won't remember me at all."

A deep sadness cuts through Alex. Whether John's being facetious or not, there will come a day when Alex's memories of him are like trying to discern pictures through television static. And what will he have then, if he stays chained to this idealistic view that moving on is a betrayal?

Something happens, a sudden rift in Alex's consciousness, and he feels the dream slipping through his fingers.

"Tell him he has a cute mouth," John says. "It worked on me."

* * *

"Dad."

Alex wakes as though pulled through hyperspace, everything jolting to life at once. Adrian's standing over the bed and looking bizarrely concerned for his father's well-being.

"Hey," Alex says. "How'd you get in here?"

"The back door was unlocked. I met your friend, by the way. The guy with the rabbits? He seems cool, I guess."

Alex sits up and grabs his phone from the empty space beside him on the mattress. "You didn't call?" He unlocks the screen, which is flooded with message and call alerts from Adrian. "Why the fuck didn't I hear all this?"

"You probably had it on vibrate."

Alex checks the switch on the side. "God damn it."

"At least you're not dead," Adrian says with a weak smile.

"That's pretty much all we can hope for anymore."

"Wow, you're a bummer."

"So I've been told." Alex slides out of bed and slips on a pair of socks, since the hardwood floor is cold against his bare feet.

As they head downstairs, Adrian asks, "What changed your mind? About me coming here, I mean."

"Geddy—Rabbit Guy—thought it would be a good idea to do this with you instead of him. He thought it would help us bond. Or something corny like that."

"Pop was corny," Adrian says, like he's making a point. They reach the bottom of the staircase. "I think that Geddy dude likes you. Maybe just a little bit."

"Did he say something?" Alex asks, not even bothering to hide the edge of hope in his voice, and Adrian hears it loud and clear.

"Oh shit, you have a crush on him, don't you?"

Alex scoffs, heading into the kitchen to put some distance between himself and the question. Because it's not like he has any food in there. "No, I don't. I just think he's cute. I'm allowed to think a guy is cute. My jaw might crack when I chew, my knees aren't what they used to be, and maybe I have considerable trouble digesting raw vegetables, but my eyes still work, damn it."

"It's okay if you like him," Adrian says.

"Okay, but I don't."

"Real mature, Dad."

"I can't hear you!" Alex covers his ears. "La la la la la!"

Adrian looks like he regrets starting this conversation. "It would be okay, y'know. If you found somebody else. Pop wouldn't want you to be alone for the rest of your life."

It's one thing to hear that sentiment from his own dream apparation of John, but hearing it from his son is startlingly different. Adrian has every reason in the world to oppose the possibility of Alex finding someone new, but even just a couple years ago he was setting Alex up on dates with well-intentioned but boring men. So maybe he's not just blowing smoke here.

The idea that the things Alex wants are okay, that his crush on Geddy doesn't nullify his love for John, overwhelms him.

"I'll think about it, okay?" Alex says. "But not right now."

"Fair enough." Adrian joins him in the kitchen. "Do you actually have food?"

"There's leftovers from last night. I made extra 'cause I'm smart." Alex taps the side of his head.

Over breakfast, Adrian tells Alex about his family, shows him videos on his phone of his daughter's dance recital, pictures from his son's fifth birthday. Alex realizes he's missed a lot, and guilt stabs into him like a hot dagger. The last time Alex saw his grandkids (from Adrian's side) was two Christmases ago when Adrian brought his family from Vancouver to Toronto for the holidays. Both of them, ages five and seven, were born after John died, so they don't even know they would have had another grandpa who would've spoiled the hell out of them.

When they're finished with breakfast, they start by upturning the photographs. Alex has fond memories tied to each one, from their first getaway as a couple in the snowy Quebec mountainside, to their family vacations to Disney theme parks, then romantic Caribbean cruises.

"Do you even remember this?" Alex asks, unveiling one of the photos taken of the four of them at Disney World. "You were, how old? Six? Seven?"

Adrian laughs. "Yeah. I remember you threw up on one of the rides."

"Okay, one: I _almost_ threw up. Second: I didn't wait long enough to ride after I ate, like, five corn dogs. Third: I have a weird thing about heights."

"How is a pilot afraid of heights?" They've had this conversation before, and it's familiar, almost comforting.

"Well, son, your dad's just a big ol' weirdo. That's how."

"That explains nothing."

"I'm not a scientist," Alex says with a shrug.

The bedroom proves more difficult. The closet is still filled with John's clothes (which Alex can wear, though they're a little more snug on him than John), the silver-blue dresser still holds and displays a clutter of knick-knacks from their vacations, mementos kept past their expiration date. On top of the dresser is a ceramic coral sculpture, a stout candle the color of the ocean, a tiny brass turtle, a Disney World snowglobe, a small wooden lighthouse, a decorative bowl filled with spare change and bottle caps, and one of Alex's smaller model planes.

Inside the top drawer: a worn-out wallet; a Rolex Alex bought him back when people still wore watches; a stack of creased birthday, father's day, and anniversary cards wrapped in rubber bands; souvenir keychains Alex brought back from various cities; an old cigar box filled with rings, coins, and cuff links from John's father; and a small stack of aged color photographs. On top of the stack is a picture of a slightly younger Alex and a much younger Adrian. They've fallen asleep on the couch, so John must have taken the picture.

"Is that me?" Adrian wonders, peering over Alex's shoulder at the photograph.

Alex turns the picture over, sees '12.1.91' written on the back in John's handwriting. Adrian must have been about five or six years old there. "Yeah. That's you. Hard to believe you were that little, huh?"

"Hard to believe you had that much hair," Adrian jokes, chuckling when Alex gives him an exaggerated scowl.

"I used to be hot," Alex protests.

"Pop would probably say you still are."

Alex laughs. "Yeah, he would. Flattery was his best quality. Well, that and his huge—"

"Dad!"

"What? I was gonna say heart. But, hey, since you brought it up—"

Adrian holds up his hands. "No, no, I don't need to know this."

They spend half an hour looking through the photos. Adrian picks out embarrassing pictures of Justin and texts them to him, while Alex reads the dates on the backs and tries to recall the moment captured in each photo. Most of the pictures are of the kids at various ages, but some of them feature John and Alex together, or one of them solo. As Alex shuffles through them, he realizes with profundity that John fucking adored him and this family they created together. Of course Alex loved John and the boys fiercely, but occasionally it was something he took for granted, never actually realizing the full extent of John's devotion. John had chronicled their entire love story through pictures and cards and mementos, a time capsule for Alex to discover after his death.

Of course John would get the last word, even from the grave.

 _Dickhead_ , Alex thinks with affection.

It takes them until dinnertime to consolidate John's belongings into two boxes tucked away in the closet. The room feels emptier now, and Alex isn't sure if it's a call for optimism (a sign of new beginnings), or something indicative of an end.

They order pizza and watch one of John's favorite movies, Tommy Boy. Both of them devolve into hysterics at Chris Farley wearing David Spade's too-small coat. "I used to do that bit for your dad all the time," Alex says. "He loved it."

Adrian laughs harder. "Of course he did. He always said you were the funniest person in the world."

"Flattery and exaggeration were two of his best qualities."

Adrian shakes his head like Alex is being ridiculous. Something catches his eye, and he asks, "When'd you stop wearing your ring?"

Alex looks at his own hand, thinks about playing it off as a joke ("oh no, where'd it go?"), but decides honesty is the best policy here. "Last night."

"Any reason?"

 _I have the hots for my eccentric neighbor_ probably isn't the best answer. "It felt like the right time."

Today has been a learning experience for Alex. He thought he would be devastated anew at the rediscovery of their memories, but looking at pictures and keepsakes has reminded him he had a hell of a time with John, and that maybe he could find something half as fulfilling with someone else. Someone new. And Alex finds he _wants_ that. Or at least wants to try to find it.

Much later, after Adrian has retired to the guest bedroom for the night, Alex lingers on the couch watching TV, too keyed up to sleep. He's about to turn off the backdoor porch light when he notices something that wasn't there before. A gift basket of various vegetables sits on his porch. Cherry tomatoes, carrots, and spinach leaves glisten under the harsh light. And in the middle of it all is a goddamn ear of corn.

 _Geddy_.

Alex picks up the basket and takes it inside. As he's piling the vegetables into the refrigerator, he sees a note hiding underneath the corn:

_To the corniest guy I know. As long as you're refusing to go to the store, here's some things to get you started on not starving. - Geddy_

At first, Alex thinks he's having a heart attack, because it's been ages since his heart has done this funny little dance in his chest; he's sixty-two years old and still eats like a broke college student, so the idea that he might be dying isn't entirely out of left field. But after a brief moment of panic, he realizes he's excited. Elated. The same sparkle and fizz he'd felt with John has resurfaced, and Alex knows this crush on Geddy is real, real enough to elbow its way past the grief.

Alex grabs his keys off the kitchen counter, steps into his house shoes by the front door and heads to Geddy's. He's wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt, but he doesn't think Geddy will care. If he's even awake. The air gives him a mild chill, and he sort of jogs to Geddy's front door, briskly knocking on the wood.

Geddy's voice calls from inside. "It's open."

Alex barges in like he lives here. "Jeez, Ged, don't you ever lock your door? Any idiot could just walk right in."

Geddy's lying on the couch, a laptop computer balanced on the tops of his thighs. The glare of the screen reflects in his glasses. He's wearing flannel-patterned lounge pants and a Toronto Blue Jays t-shirt. "Any idiot did," he says with a smirk. He sets the laptop on a nearby coffee table and scoots up into a sit. "So how did today go?"

As Alex approaches, it occurs to him he doesn't have much of a game plan here. He came over to determine if Geddy has non-platonic feelings for him (straight men don't send another guy a basket of anything), but now that he's here the thought of asking those questions is daunting.

Alex moves to join Geddy on the couch, and Geddy swings his feet off the cushion so Alex can sit beside him. "It was... good," Alex says. "Thank you for pointing out what should've been obvious to me. And thanks for the produce."

Geddy huffs a soft, self-conscious laugh. He pushes a chunk of hair behind his ear, as though exposing more of his face to Alex. "You're welcome."

"You're like the Easter bunny, except it's not Easter, and instead of candy, it's just the grass everyone throws away." Alex grins, and Geddy chuckles, his cheeks flushing a delicious shade of pink. Alex thinks about leaning in and kissing him, but he waits too long, and the moment is over.

"You sure you're not a little gay?" Alex says, keeping his tone light. "You send your wife or girlfriend a basket of stuff, not your guy friend."

"If I'd used a paper or plastic bag, it would've looked like I was dumping a body part on your doorstep. Presentation is everything."

"You're the gayest straight guy I've ever met."

"I'm not gay," Geddy says, and it seems to take a lot of effort for him to look at Alex. "But I do think you're cute. Is that a problem?"

Joy bubbles up in Alex's chest like an overflowing soda pop. "Nah, I'm adorable. I'm used to it." He can't stop smiling. And he can't remember the last time he smiled this much, this genuinely. Now he's staring at Geddy's mouth, and there's a flicker of a second where he catches Geddy staring at him too, and before he can stop himself Alex moves in and captures Geddy's lips underneath his own.

It's a soft and timid kiss, more innocent than he's ever been. Geddy makes a quiet noise behind it and opens his mouth a little, encouraging, interested. Alex is tempted to turn this into a make-out session with copious tongue, but he doesn't want to move too fast, for either of their sakes.

They separate slowly, just enough that the heat of Geddy's breath ghosts over Alex's skin. Geddy's lips are parted in stunned surprise, like maybe he enjoyed that a little more than he thought he would. Alex's nerves buzz with sensation and the excited tingle of touching someone new. His hand, he realizes, has made its way to Geddy's cheek, and Geddy doesn't seem in any hurry to remove it.

Geddy gives him a coy smile. "You were married almost forty years, and you can't kiss any better than that?"

"I was going easy on you. Using the full range of my make-out skills could be dangerous."

"I can handle it," Geddy says, sweet and self-assured, and Alex just has to find out for himself. He plucks Geddy's glasses off his face and sets them on the table before crushing their mouths together. Geddy gasps a little when Alex nibbles at his bottom lip. His fingers curl around the back of Geddy's head, tangled in his messy hair, and Alex's tongue slips between his lips. Geddy breathes a little quicker now, grabbing fistfuls of Alex's shirt to pull him closer. Alex shifts enough to shadow Geddy with his form, and Geddy sinks against the couch, his hands reaching up into Alex's hair.

Geddy moans a quiet sound so full of need that Alex almost stops breathing, because it's been ages since he's been this close to a sex noise he caused. But reaching into Geddy's pants and jerking him off might give him the wrong idea, like Alex is only in this for the sex, so instead he traces his thumb over the hot pulse in Geddy's throat. Geddy squirms and shifts and slides his legs, and his mouth never ceases the hungry give and take of kisses. Alex feels heady and drunk, his senses overloaded by desire bursting in his veins like phoenix fire.

So it takes him a moment to notice Geddy's using his thigh as a source of friction, at least until Geddy grinds into him and bites his lip with a long groan.

Maybe Geddy would be cool with it if Alex jerked him off. He should probably ask, just to make sure.

"You want me to touch you?" Alex murmurs, moving his kisses to Geddy's jawline so he can speak.

Geddy's fingers tighten in his hair, his hips pushing into Alex's thigh. "You don't have to," he says, a little breathless. "I just need—" A surprised gasp bursts out of his mouth when Alex's teeth graze his earlobe. "It's been a while."

"I got you." Alex kisses a line down Geddy's neck, sinks down the couch and onto the floor so he's kneeling at Geddy's feet. He edges up Geddy's t-shirt with his fingers and kisses his stomach, tongue swirling around his navel. Geddy whines and arches into Alex's touch. His fingers snarl in Alex's hair, and Alex keeps going, fishing Geddy's cock out of his pants. He's remarkably hard, and Alex strokes his thumb over the vein along the underside, making Geddy gasp and push his hips into Alex's hand.

"Please," Geddy begs, and that's all the encouragement Alex needs to swallow him down. Geddy yelps a high-pitched noise of want, gripping Alex's hair and shaking as he struggles against the human urge to buck his hips. Geddy is hot and alive in Alex's mouth, whimpering breathy sounds as Alex sucks him with skilled urgency. Alex wants him to come more than he's wanted anything in a long time. He hums around Geddy's cock, and that's all it takes for Geddy to shake apart. Alex takes it all; he always loved doing this for John, loved feeling the pulse of his heartbeat in his dick, the bitter taste on his tongue. Geddy comes with surprise and shock, like it's his first time all over again. He sighs a long, contented noise, sort of petting Alex's hair. Alex licks him clean and mouths his softening cock.

Geddy's voice is ragged and breathy when he finally speaks. "That was... Wow."

Alex smiles, fluttering kisses over the tops of Geddy's thighs. He wants to devour Geddy and be consumed by him all at once. His dick throbs madly in his sweats, but he's not going to push any further than this. This is probably Geddy's first sexual experience with a dude, so asking him to return the favor at this juncture seems a bit crass.

"John was a lucky guy," Geddy says, and Alex smiles against his skin.

"So are you. I mean, if you wanna be." Alex looks up at Geddy, trying to decipher his expression.

"Are you asking me to date you?"

"Seems like we've kinda been doing that since I got here."

Geddy's mouth twitches into an amused smirk. "Then it'll be easy for us."

Alex can't stop the doofy smile that spreads on his face. He tugs Geddy's pants over his hips and clambers back onto the couch beside him, because he can't just stay there forever at Geddy's feet, no matter how much he'd like to; his knees aren't what they used to be. "So you wanna do this?" Alex asks, and suddenly he's an awkward teenager again with zero game.

Geddy tilts his head to look at Alex. His green eyes are small without his glasses in front of them. "We like each other, right? So why not?"

Alex can't think of a single reason. He moves in and presses a gentle kiss to Geddy's lips. Geddy opens his mouth slightly, but that's as far as it goes. It feels deliciously chaste and innocent.

"I could really get used to kissing you," Geddy says when it's over.

"Yeah, me too."

Alex lingers for about an hour, talking with Geddy and watching silly videos on his laptop. Geddy leans against Alex, head on his shoulder, and Alex doesn't dare move until Geddy starts yawning.

"Bedtime already?" Alex teases. His fingers play with Geddy's hair, and he definitely notices the subtle blush coloring Geddy's cheeks.

"It's been a long day."

Geddy has this adorable habit of looking at Alex for a moment then glancing away, like now that their mutual interest has been acknowledged he can't handle the weight of it. His gaze drops to Alex's other hand, which lingers in his lap. He reaches for it, his thumb grazing over the strip of paler flesh where Alex's wedding band once sat.

"I'll be good to you," Geddy says, his voice softer than usual.

Alex's heart swells in his chest like he's the goddamn Grinch. Geddy's just as fragile as Alex is, and Alex has a good feeling about their compatibility.

"I know." Alex steals another kiss, and Geddy lets him take it, his lips curled into a smile beneath Alex's own.

When Alex leaves, he's happier than he's been in years.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hot damn! Now that was worth waiting for!"

Alex is in the dream restaurant again, sitting across from a very pleased John. The lighting is different tonight, because it's, well, day. Sunshine streams in through the once clouded windows, illuminating the empty room and giving it the appearance of an abandoned teahouse. Everything suddenly looks old and unused. There aren't cobwebs, but there ought to be.

"And of course you would give and not take anything in return," John continues, unaffected by Alex's confusion. "C'mon, pop his man-cherry. He'd let you."

"He's never been with a guy. I didn't wanna—" Alex shakes his head as though shaking off that train of thought. "Why am I explaining myself to you? You're not real."

"I'm as real as I can be. I'll always be here." John reaches across the table and taps his index finger between Alex's eyebrows. "And here." Touching his heart now. "So you'll never get rid of me."

"How did you make that sound ominous?"

John chuckles and pushes back from the table. "Follow me? And try not to throw up. These jeans are vintage."

Alex follows John as he weaves through the mass of empty chairs and tables. He approaches a window and peers out. They're floating in the midst of clouds, God knows how many kilometers off the ground. He doesn't throw up, because this is a dream, and that would be silly.

"We're flying?"

"It's one of those abstract dream metaphors," John explains. "Flight symbolizes freedom, the light clearing out the darkness, blah blah blah. Very heavy-handed, but, hey, it's your dream."

Alex looks to John for more definitive answers. "So this is, what, because of Geddy?"

"I guess. We were together almost forty years, and I still don't know what's going on in that crazy head of yours. But something's changed, even if you don't really know it yet."

Looking at it that way, this whole place is a manifestation of Alex's inner mood. So it makes sense things would be a bit brighter now that he's got a more optimistic outlook.

"Will I see you again?"

"I told you. You can't get rid of me." John grins at him. "And, knowing you, I don't think you'd want to anyway."

"Look, whatever happens with Geddy, it doesn't change what we—"

John places his hand over Alex's mouth. "Don't spoil the moment."

At first Alex doesn't know what he's talking about. They're just watching the clouds roll by and the world pass below them. But after a moment of standing there with John, even if he's a figment of Alex's imagination, Alex thinks he gets it.

* * *

Alex needs to buy some goddamn food already. Like hell he's going to eat raw vegetables, and cooking them seems like too much effort for such little payoff. He can't even throw them in a stew.

"Where'd you get the vegetables?" Adrian asks, padding into the kitchen.

"Oh, Geddy brought them over last night. Well, he left them on the doorstep. But, semantics."

This seems to pique Adrian's interest. "He brought you produce?"

"I admit, it sounds ridiculous—"

"And you don't think he has a crush on you?"

"Oh, I know he does. I saw it." Alex spreads his index fingers apart, as though measuring an invisible cock. "A _biiiiig_ ol'—"

Adrian holds up his hands, like he's fending off the visual. "No! No! Literally all you had to say was, 'and now we're dating.'" He looks at Alex, and whatever he sees on his father's face softens him somehow. "But, y'know, I'm happy for you."

How wonderful this must be for Adrian to see signs of life sparking in his father, instead of the dull, grey apathy weighing Alex down for the last eight years.

Alex smiles in solidarity and turns back to the fridge. "We should get some food."

"I'll call Uber," Adrian says, grabbing his phone out of his pocket like a Wild West gunslinger.

"Wait. I have an idea."

Geddy is, of course, tending his garden when Alex peeks over the fence. "There's no reason to be awake this early," Alex says, as Geddy doesn't look like he just crawled out of bed. Morning people are an entirely different species, Alex thinks.

Geddy looks up in the direction of Alex's voice, cheeks flushed with playful chagrin when he sees him there. "Good morning to you, too."

It should be awkward, carrying on a conversation with a guy whose dick you had in your mouth after only knowing him for four days, but there's an innate chemistry between them, almost like an aura Alex can feel.

"There's nothing good about mornings," Alex scoffs.

"Oh my God, you're a human version of Garfield."

Alex chuckles. "Well, I do love lasagna."

"Didn't you have to wake up ungodly early for your job?"

"It sucked then, and it sucks now. One of the perks of retiring is never having to wake up early."

"You're going to be difficult," Geddy says with a tender smile. A grey and white rabbit hops nearby and wiggles its nose at the plant Geddy's tending to.

"Can I ask a favor?"

"You can ask. Doesn't mean I'll say yes."

"Can I borrow your car? I need to go to the store."

Geddy's head whips in Alex's direction. "You're getting groceries?"

"Well, yeah. We got rid of all my food, remember? And the veggies are awesome—thank you again—but they'll be even more awesome with actual food."

"Have something special in mind?"

"Probably just soup," Alex says with a shrug. "Do you—Do you wanna come over for dinner? "

Geddy studies Alex coyly, his gaze powerful enough that Alex feels like a dopey, insecure teenager again. "Does Adrian know you'll be having a guest?"

Alex briefly considers lying, but is that really how he wants to start off this relationship? "He'll be fine with it. As long as you don't start jerking me off under the table."

Geddy blushes, turning his head to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I think I can control myself."

* * *

"It's so weird seeing you like this," Adrian says as Alex drives them into town. It's the middle of the afternoon, and the roads are clear, winding along like tendrils of blacktop underneath a vast sea-blue sky.

"Like what?"

"Having a crush."

Alex snorts. "I had a crush on your dad."

"No, you were in love with Pop. Big difference. With Geddy, you're excited to see him, and you get this weird smile on your face whenever you talk about him. Right there—there it is!"

Alex forces an old man scowl onto his features. Like hell he's proving Adrian's point. "Wrong! I was thinking about those videos of that cat playing the keyboard. They've always got him wearing a shirt. It cracks me up."

Adrian smiles knowingly. "It's okay if you have a crush on Geddy. I've just never seen that from you before."

"Maybe it's not a good idea to start over so late in life," Alex says. "Maybe this is a mistake."

"He made you feel things again. That's kind of important, don't you think?"

Alex hesitates a second too long.

"It's normal to be nervous," Adrian tells him. "You and Pop got together super early and stayed that way for almost forty years. You're not the type to have short-term flings. So whatever you're feeling for Geddy, you're probably looking at it like it's another marriage."

"Go hard or go home."

"Why don't you have him over for dinner tonight? Though I'm sure you've already asked him."

"No, I haven't," Alex says with a scoff that isn't fooling anyone. "But he'll appreciate the invitation. I think he's a little scared of having to earn you guys' approval. If you were younger he could just buy your love with video games."

"He has kids too, right?"

"Yeah, but his situation seems a little different. But maybe I should just let him explain it tonight."

"You seem pretty confident he'll show up. Almost like you already asked him and he said yes."

"No, I didn't," Alex insists, rolling his eyes.

Adrian just smirks, hearing right through that weak denial.

* * *

Geddy stops by around six o'clock that evening. Adrian lets him inside while Alex sets the table with steaming platters of baked chicken and vegetables

"Hey, stranger," Alex says. He looks at Geddy, feels a flush creep over his face and down his neck. "You brought wine?" he asks, noticing the bottle of white wine clutched in Geddy's right hand.

"Yeah, I hope you don't mind."

"That's really thoughtful of you," Adrian says.

"I try." Geddy shrugs and offers a smile. "You're Adrian, right? We met before, but it's a little different now, huh?"

"Just a bit."

"I hope this isn't weird for you," Geddy says as they head toward the dining room table. "Me and your dad, I mean."

"It's fine. He could do a lot worse."

"I have amazing taste and you know it," Alex gloats.

Geddy stands over the table, peering at tonight's meal. "I thought you were gonna make soup."

"I changed my mind."

The three of them sit and pour the wine. Adrian asks Geddy much of the same questions Alex had during their first meeting. Geddy answers kindly and with patience, like he knows how important this is for Adrian. Every now and then he does that hair-tucking thing, which Alex now knows is a nervous tic. And each time, Alex surreptitiously reaches over and places a hand on Geddy's thigh, attempting to be reassuring but probably seeming like he's trying to give Geddy a boner at the table. If Adrian notices these covert gestures of affection, he doesn't say anything.

"It was really nice of you to come spend time with your dad," Geddy says to Adrian. "Alex tells me you live in Vancouver?"

"Yeah. Have you ever been?"

"A couple times. Some of the bands I produced recorded in studios there, but that was a long time ago. More recently, I went with my daughter for a campus tour of UBC."

"She's a student there?"

Geddy nods proudly. "Just started."

"That's really cool. I applied but didn't get in. Good on her."

As the evening goes on, Adrian says, "Y'know, you're totally different than Pop was. It's kind of refreshing."

"Different how?" Geddy asks, curious.

Adrian raises an eyebrow. "I thought Dad would've told you all about him. Well, for one, you're shy. Pop had zero shame. Can you imagine those two together? Making the world's lamest dad jokes?"

Geddy laughs. Even his laugh is gentle and soft-spoken.

"My jokes are amazing," Alex corrects. "Right, Ged?"

"I don't think 'amazing' is the right word." Geddy gives him a coy smile. "'Endearing,' maybe."

"Hey, I'll take it. As long as you like me."

Geddy's face flushes, and he glances away, as though embarrassed Alex is flirting with him in front of Adrian.

"I get the feeling you won't make sex jokes at the dinner table either," Adrian says to Geddy.

"We only did that to gross you and your brother out," Alex says.

"Well, it worked."

"Mission accomplished."

Adrian rolls his eyes good-naturedly, his focus back to Geddy. "And you've got all those rabbits. We never had pets 'cause Pop was allergic."

"John was a walking disaster," Alex says with fondness. "He was allergic to everything—animals, grass, the laundry soap I used to use before we discovered it gave him a rash. He couldn't have sweets, and by the time he was twenty-five he couldn't drink 'cause he'd need a nap after one beer. Or one joint. Zero fun at parties."

Adrian scoffs. "Like you two even went to parties after you had me and Justin."

"We could have," Alex protests, petulant, but it's not like Adrian's wrong. "Ged, how much wine can you drink?"

Geddy blinks. "At once?"

"That's the idea."

"My partying days are over," Geddy says. Then, coyly: "But you don't need to get me drunk, if that's what you're thinking..."

"So it begins," Adrian says sadly, staring at his plate like he blames it for everything. But Alex knows he's just joking; seeing Alex cracking jokes and flirting with someone again must be nice for Adrian, a return to the familiar environment in which he was raised.

After dinner is eaten and the dishes are cleaned, the three of them finish off the wine. Geddy's cheeks are lightly flushed, and Alex is reminded of how Geddy looked last night after he came. He stares intently at the way Geddy's fingers play with the stem of his wine glass. Suddenly, he is cartoonishly hard underneath the table, stimulated by the mere thought of Geddy's hands on him. It would be pathetic if men his age weren't typically incapable of achieving erections without the help of a little blue pill.

Alex shifts in his chair, trying to rearrange his thighs in a way that lets his cock breathe a little. But each new position puts pressure on his balls instead, and, Christ alive, that doesn't help at all. So awkward thigh squishing it is, then. Awesome.

Maybe the darned thing will just go away on its own. That's pretty much how it showed up.

Alex downs more wine. Alcohol's supposed to inhibit these sort of things, right?

Meanwhile, Adrian and Geddy are talking and laughing like Geddy's always been part of their family, and Alex feels a warmth spreading through his chest.

"Adrian, you should bring the kids here for Christmas," Alex offers. "I can get the place fixed up by then. And they'd probably like to see Ged's rabbits."

Adrian looks momentarily taken aback, as though never expecting Alex to make the offer. A surprised smile spreads on his face. "Really? That would be—We could definitely do that."

Alex catches Adrian giving Geddy a sly look, as though the two of them are in on a secret. He can probably guess what it might be.

"I hate to be that guy," Geddy starts meekly.

Alex smirks. "But you're gonna go ahead and be him anyway."

Geddy rolls his eyes fondly and continues. "But I don't celebrate Christmas. I'm Jewish."

"We can do Hanukkah too! How many days are you s'posed to get presents?" Alex muses. "I mean, I'm cheap and lazy, so you're probably just gonna get sex all eight or nine days, but there's a reason John stayed with me almost forty years. Well, you already know." He winks.

Geddy goes impossibly red. "And you didn't think he'd make sex jokes," he says to Adrian.

"Please don't enable him."

Later, Adrian catches Alex alone and says, "I think I'm gonna head home in the morning. Doesn't seem like you need me around." He glances at Geddy, who's sitting on the couch watching TV, oblivious to their hushed conversation.

Alex follows his gaze, and he feels the stupid smile forming on his mouth at the sight of his new boyfriend. Fuck, he has a _boyfriend_ again. "It was nice seeing you. I really appreciate you coming all the way here for me."

"You're my dad," Adrian says with a shrug, like that's all there is to say. "I love you, and I'm glad you're finally happy again. I hope he's good to you. If he's not, I'll kick his ass."

Alex chuckles and brings Adrian in for the hug he knows his son wants to give him. "Don't be a stranger."

"I won't—Ugh, Dad, seriously?" Adrian says, pushing away. "I think you have a medical condition."

Alex glances down between them at his unbelievably troublesome erection, which hasn't tempered much since its appearance earlier this evening. "Damn it."

Adrian laughs and shakes his head as he heads for the stairs. "If I don't see you in the morning, Geddy, it was nice meeting you."

"You too!" Geddy says, perking up. "Thank you for helping with Alex."

"Anytime."

After Adrian has gone upstairs, Alex switches off the TV and sits beside Geddy in a pointed, insistent way, demanding his attention. Geddy gives him a curious look, like he's trying to figure out what planet Alex is from. "Yes?"

Alex bats his eyelashes. "I've wanted to kiss you all night."

Geddy turns to face him, his head lilted slightly, seductively. "Why didn't you?"

"You've seen what happens when I kiss you. Things escalate."

"So why didn't you?"

Alex grins and can't resist leaning in, but he has to stop himself, because the moment he presses his lips to Geddy's own they're never making it off this couch. "Go upstairs with me and I will."

So Geddy does, and once they're inside Alex steers Geddy toward the bed, getting him against the mattress and claiming his mouth. Geddy writhes underneath him, returning Alex's kisses as his hands weave into Alex's hair. Alex kisses the corner of Geddy's mouth, follows the line of his jaw to his earlobe, gently biting down and earning a moan. "I wanna kiss you everywhere," Alex murmurs, and Geddy shivers, lifting his hips. He's taking that as a yes unless Geddy says otherwise, so Alex pauses briefly to pull Geddy's t-shirt over his head, then his mouth is on him again, leaving slick trails down his chest, pinching nipples with his teeth.

Geddy shakes out a surprised noise, like he's shocked by how much he likes this. Alex mouths down Geddy's body, his tongue swirling around his navel, and he's momentarily stopped by the trail of hair bisecting Geddy's stomach. He pauses there, his breath hot on Geddy's skin. Geddy wriggles his hips, and Alex feels the solid heat of him against his neck.

Alex gets him naked in record time, kissing his hip bones, nipping at the inside of his thighs hard enough to leave faint red marks to remind Geddy of tonight's exploration. Geddy's making soft noises, his hips thrusting, his cock jutting against the air and leaking at the tip, so Alex dips in for a taste, his tongue flicking at the beads of precum there. Geddy gasps and jerks, and Alex drags his tongue flat against the bulging length of him, toying with his balls for a moment before licking at his hole.

"Oh God," Geddy yelps in a shriek of breath, his entire body flinching at the barest flick of tongue. He has never been touched here, and Alex wants to dive in and eat him out, leave him a shaking, slick mess, but something tells him he ought to approach this with more patience.

"Can I put my fingers in you?" Alex asks, sitting up in anticipation of a yes, and Geddy squeezes his thighs together, like the mere suggestion arouses him.

"Yeah." Geddy nods, so Alex digs the lube out of the nightstand and gets his fingers wet, lying beside Geddy and turning him a bit so they're facing each other.

"Tell me if it's too much, okay?" Alex teases one finger at Geddy's hole. Geddy whimpers, the sound subsumed in a gasp. Alex really wants to push in and open him up, but he goes slowly, gently rubbing until the tightness recedes. He kisses the noises out of Geddy's mouth, trying to keep him focused on the chemistry between them instead of the startling new sensation between his legs.

But Geddy seems to enjoy the way Alex is touching him. He groans low and throaty, his fingers digging into Alex's back. He throws a leg over Alex's hip, pushing them together, closer. Alex catches a glimpse of something on Geddy's face, and he eases the tip of his finger inside.

"Ah..." Geddy's voice shakes in his throat, his hips hitching forward, his hard cock seeking friction in the air.

"Too much?" Alex stops the stroke of his hand, waiting for Geddy to give or deny him permission.

"Keep going," Geddy says, pushing his hips down a little, like he wants more.

So that's what Alex gives him, one finger slipping inside. Geddy bites his lower lip to muffle the sharp cry that leaves his mouth. His hand clutches at Alex's shoulder, demanding and insistent, before it drops away and he's tugging at his own dick. Alex almost stops him with a promise he'll get Geddy off, but honestly it's really hot watching him touch himself, this intimate thing he never dreamed he'd be privy to. Geddy squeezes and strokes, bucks his hips into the way Alex's hand works at his opening. Alex wonders if this is how Geddy might respond with his cock inside of him, and a shiver makes his body jerk.

"You okay?" Geddy asks, concern etched in the crease of his brow.

"Just thinking." Alex pushes in, out, swirls his finger over Geddy's slick hole before doing it all again.

Now it's Geddy's turn to shiver. "About what?"

"Putting my cock inside you."

"Oh fuck..." Geddy drops his head back, squirming against Alex's hand, squeezing himself in his own.

"That turns you on, too? Good, I thought I was the only one."

Geddy makes a breathy little noise, still writhing and pushing into the touches that have him twisted up. "Right there. Please."

Alex can totally follow directions, so he strokes over the spot inside of Geddy that makes his breath shake and his body tense. Geddy's gasping Alex's name cut through with praises, and Alex watches him, entranced.

"Must be your g-spot. Get it?" Alex grins.

"Shut up—" That last part gets cut off as Geddy crests with a high-pitched little gasp that almost makes Alex come, too. He comes over his hand and his stomach, and Alex tucks himself in closer to kiss Geddy's sweat-stippled shoulder, enjoying the damp puff of breath at his ear.

They stay that way for a while, and the longer the silence persists between them, the more Alex considers Geddy might have fallen asleep. But his quiet voice says, "I don't know what I was worried about. That was nice."

"I've had a lot of practice."

Geddy unwraps his fingers from his cock and tentatively fumbles with Alex's jeans and takes out his cock. His cum-slicked hand begins to move, slow and awkward, because Geddy's never touched someone else's dick before. Alex can't help but sigh contentedly, his face sort of tucked into Geddy's chest. His hand's still lingering between Geddy's legs, thumb kneading over his balls, two fingers lazily rubbing over his hole. Geddy hums, experimenting with different touches and pressures that make Alex wriggle and push his hips forward.

Alex wants to watch, so he shifts, enabling him to see Geddy's hand working between them. Presumably, the only dick Geddy has seen this close in real life is his own, and Alex wonders what Geddy thinks of his cock. Does he find it cumbersome in his hand? Is there too much girth and not enough length? Does it look like something Geddy might want inside of him?

Geddy seems oddly fascinated with touching Alex. His thumb presses at the swollen head of Alex's cock, rubbing in teasing little circles, a motion which Alex mimics with his own hand at Geddy's opening. Geddy squeezes his thighs together, still trembling from his orgasm and Alex's teasing touch, and he applies a little more pressure, grasping Alex tighter and quickening his stroke.

Alex comes without warning, spurting white-hot over Geddy's fingers. Geddy doesn't seem to mind. Alex tries to catch his breath, and he's pleased to see Geddy doesn't immediately withdraw his hand after the deed is done. He squeezes Alex in his loosened fist, helping him through the aftershocks, and Alex melts.

* * *

"What're you doin'?"

It's four-thirty in the morning, and Geddy is jerking off. Or, at least, that's what it looks like, as Geddy has his back to Alex and the duvet drawn over him. All Alex really has to prove that theory is the quiet little whimpers Geddy's biting back and the slow back-and-forth of his arm hidden beneath the covers.

Geddy makes a soft noise of surprise in his throat, and Alex crawls closer, pressing his front against Geddy's back. "Are you jerkin' it?" Alex asks. "'Cause if you are, you gotta let me watch. Them's the rules."

Geddy huffs a quiet laugh, turning his head to peek at Alex's face. "There are rules?"

"Well, I just made it up, but it still counts." Alex pulls back the duvet, and is immediately aroused by the sight of Geddy's hand between his legs, one finger pushed inside. "Fuck," Alex hears himself say, a little breathless.

Geddy turns onto his back and gives Alex a sheepish look. "I couldn't get back to sleep," he says, like he's trying to make excuses for a normal physical urge. "It tires me out."

Alex traces a finger down the length of Geddy's arm, covering his stilled hand with his own. "Keep going. But I wanna watch."

Geddy blushes in the darkness. His cock lies limp on his stomach, and Alex retrieves the bottle of lube, drizzling gel onto Geddy's timid, submersed fingers. "Don't be shy," Alex coaxes.

Geddy eases a digit in and out, looking at Alex for a moment before turning his attention to where his hand's working, like he needs to see what he's doing. But Alex knows Geddy's just too shy to do this in front of someone, which makes it a million times hotter. As Geddy's fingers move, his cock twitches to life, and Geddy huffs a quiet sound as his dick stiffens. His palm kneads over his balls each time his hand moves. He bites his lower lip, his heels dragging over the sheets as he opens his legs a bit wider.

Alex places a palm on the inside of Geddy's thigh, spreading him open further. Geddy lifts his hips off the mattress, and he moans, thrusting into his hand and sinking one finger knuckle-deep.

"What are you thinking about?" Alex asks in a murmur, admiring the pearly beads forming at the tip of Geddy's cock.

"Nothing." Geddy's brow creases, and he tips his head back, letting out a soft groan.

"Have you ever thought about me?" Alex wants to see how Geddy responds to that, if the idea of it turns him on.

Geddy hiccups a moan, briefly looking at Alex. The slow rub of his hand gains speed. "Just once... The other night. But it wasn't like this. This is"—he gasps—"this is better." As if proving his point, Geddy moans again. The head of his cock glistens with precum, and Alex wants to lick it away, but he can't miss a second of this. "Did John ever do this for you?"

"John didn't have to jerk off. He had me."

"Is that why you like watching me? 'Cause it's new?"

"I like watching _you_ ," Alex says, drinking in the dip and stroke of Geddy's hand. "All of this is new to you. It's super hot. Sometimes John would come in me then put his tongue in. I wanna try that with you. Wanna hear what you sound like."

Geddy wails, his head tipping back again as his hand speeds up.

"Is that a demonstration?" Alex teases, knowing full well Geddy's teetering on the edge.

"I'm coming," Geddy says in a rush of breath.

"Go on." Alex covers Geddy's hand with his own. "I wanna see."

Geddy's orgasm peaks in heightened gasps of Alex's name until he breaks in a splatter of gooey white across his stomach. He draws his legs in, suddenly shy, and Alex kisses the top of a knee. "So fucking hot," he sighs, easing Geddy's legs open again so he can slide in between them. Alex laps at the mess on Geddy's belly, and Geddy watches with stunned interest. He cards his free hand through Alex's hair, a gesture almost too tender for what they've done here, what they're doing.

Geddy tastes slick and salt-bitter, but Alex is used to it, and he licks him clean without complaint, humming over Geddy's skin. He mouths at Geddy's flaccid cock, suckling the head. His own dick strains fiercely in the confines of his boxers, and he wrestles a hand inside to relieve some of the tension.

"I'll take care of you," Geddy offers, and Alex pauses, curious where this may lead. "I wanna try something..."

Alex sits up so Geddy can jerk him off, but that's not what Geddy has in mind. Geddy rises to his knees and kisses Alex. Alex wonders if he tastes himself there. Geddy spreads his hands across the breadth of Alex's bare stomach, and Alex is momentarily self-conscious about his weight until Geddy fishes his cock out of his shorts. His touch is still new enough to register as unfamiliar, and Alex squirms, bucking his hips into Geddy's palm. Geddy strokes and squeezes him through a few timid kisses, then he says, "Lie down," and Alex obeys.

Geddy sits between Alex's open legs, tucking his hair behind his ears as his head sinks down and his mouth engulfs the swollen head of Alex's cock. Alex makes a pathetic groaning noise, writhing over the mattress. Geddy's mouth is hot and slick. He's not as skilled at giving head as John was, but Alex hasn't had his cock sucked in eight years, so expertise isn't very important here.

"Ged," Alex feels compelled to sigh. His breath's already shaking in his throat. Geddy's hair hangs in long curtains, tickling Alex's thighs every time he moves. Geddy's fist squeezes at the base, and his tongue swirls and traces in ways that might be more suitable for female genitalia, but it's not entirely unpleasant.

"I'm gonna come," Alex says, because Geddy's still new to this and probably deserves a fair warning before getting a mouthful of jizz. "Can I come in your mouth?"

Geddy exhales, and Alex feels the muggy heat of his breath, then he hums around his cock in affirmation, which rumbles and resonates through Alex like striking a tuning fork. He comes, and Geddy slurps and sucks and swallows him down dutifully. Geddy hums again, as though appreciative of what Alex has given him.

"Shit," Alex sighs, trying to catch his breath. Geddy's mouth lingers around Alex's dick for a moment before letting it slip free with a plop. "You're not half bad at that."

"It probably helps that you've been celibate for a while." Geddy crawls over him and steals a kiss. Alex tastes himself on Geddy's tongue and lips.

"Game recognizes game."

Geddy laughs and settles on top of Alex, his head resting on his chest. Alex combs his fingers through Geddy's hair. "So what's this about you fixing up the house for Christmas? Does that mean you're staying?"

"I get laid here; of course I'm staying."

Geddy chuckles, tracing a fingertip in swirls over Alex's side. "You could get laid anywhere if you put your mind to it. You only found me because you were ready."

"I found you 'cause you moved next door."

"You think that was just a coincidence?"

Alex is still a little lightheaded from his orgasm, so Geddy raising the possibility of divine intervention doesn't help reorient him. "Are you suggesting John orchestrated this from... wherever he is?"

Geddy shrugs. "I'm just asking what you think."

"No one's that lucky."

"There have been people who won the lottery twice. It's not impossible."

"You consider yourself a lottery prize? Wow, Ged, conceited much?" Alex teases, kissing Geddy's forehead as he rubs his back.

Geddy exhales laughter over Alex's chest. "I was referring to you."

"Oh, smooth."

When Geddy falls asleep, there's a smile at the edges of his lips.

* * *

In the morning Alex carefully extricates himself from underneath Geddy's sleeping form. After Alex has brewed a pot of coffee, Adrian comes downstairs, dressed in jeans and a collared shirt, lugging a small suitcase.

"Making your escape?" Alex chuckles at his son's panicked expression. "I'm kidding. C'mere and give me a hug." He holds up his hands in mock-surrender. "I'm boner-free."

"Unfortunately for Geddy," Adrian says in a rare moment of indulging Alex's penchant for dirty jokes. Alex laughs, and Adrian wraps his arms around him. "I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks."

"I guess you're keeping the house, huh?"

Alex smiles, looking around at the home he once shared with John, a home he'll make his own with Geddy. "Seems stupid not to, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I don't think you could handle an LDR."

Alex makes a confused face.

Adrian sighs like he's explained this a million times. "Long-distance relationship. I forget that you're old and don't know things."

Alex gives him a gentle, affectionate punch to the shoulder. "Smart-ass."

Adrian smiles and hugs him again, as though suddenly remembering the gravity of losing a parent. "See you at Christmas."

"And Hanukkah!"

"Not after you said you're giving Geddy sex as presents."

"We're in our sixties. How much sex can we really have?"

"I'm sure you two will find new and terrifying ways to defy your age." Adrian smirks. "I'll see ya, Dad."

Alex watches him leave, hears the front door close. After standing in the kitchen for a moment, he dials Justin's cell number. It's a little early, but Justin's probably awake already.

Justin answers on the third ring. "Dad? Something wrong?"

"Why do you always assume something's wrong when I call you?"

"You do it to me."

"Point taken." Alex pours himself a mug of steaming coffee, adds more cream and sugar than entirely necessary. "I just thought I'd let you know I'm keeping the vacation home. At least for the foreseeable future." He lingers at the sliding glass doors leading to the backyard. Outside, the morning sun lights up the red leaves of the maples, the multicolored foliage of the oaks.

"Oh?" Justin says, a hint of intrigue in his voice.

"So, y'know, sorry about your potential buyer. But you warned him this might happen, right?"

"It's okay, Dad. I made him up anyway. He never existed. You just needed to be there again, even if you didn't know it. I thought telling you there was a buyer would light a fire under your ass."

"So you lied to me?"

"Yeah, I did. Sue me."

Alex finds himself grinning. "You really are your father's son." John pulled a stunt like this once for a long-ago anniversary; he told Alex they were spending a week at his parents' Winnipeg ranch. But as they boarded the plane Alex discovered the real destination was Vancouver. "I had to keep it a secret," John explained. "If you knew we were going somewhere fun you'd never be able to get to sleep. You'd be insufferable."

"I learned from the best," Justin says.

"I guess I can forgive you for your treachery."

"Hey, blame Pop. It's genetic." Justin laughs. "Adrian told me you're dating your neighbor. Is that why you're staying?"

"Don't judge me," Alex says. "It's my turn to make impulsive and potentially terrible life decisions. I've earned it."

"No judgment. I hear he's nice. And cute."

"Adrian said that?"

"No, you did."

Alex blushes, a little embarrassed Justin remembers that. "Well, it's true. And I'm gonna fix up the place, so we can have a big family Christmas. Adrian's already RSVP'd, so you'll look like a jerk if you don't come."

"And I'll get to meet this guy?"

"You'll also get to see your dad again. And bring the kids to see Grandpa. But, okay, if you just wanna judge Dad's new boyfriend, _fine_ ," Alex says, feigning teenage indignation.

"I'm not gonna judge. I'm amazed you found someone else willing to put up with you."

Alex laughs. "How did I end up with two smart-ass kids?"

"We had two smart-ass parents."

"Figures."

They say their goodbyes and hang up. Alex sips his coffee, admiring the amber hues of morning from outside the window. He hears the gentle creak and shift of the stairs behind him, and he turns to see Geddy descending the staircase, wearing one of Alex's t-shirts and possibly nothing else underneath it.

Alex tries to keep his tongue in the vicinity of his mouth. "Well, good morning to you too."

Geddy blushes and tucks his hair behind his ears. "I used your shower. Hope you don't mind."

"I absolutely do mind, 'cause you didn't invite me to join you."

Geddy moves closer, a sly smile on his lips. "I'm sure we'll have time for that later." He's impossibly close now, and Alex smells the cloying scent of shampoo wafting from Geddy's damp hair.

Dumbly, Alex offers Geddy his coffee mug. "Hope you don't take it black. Or do you not even bother with coffee and just head straight for the wine?"

"Gotta start the day right," Geddy jokes, but he accepts the mug and takes a long drink. Alex watches Geddy in silent admiration; the morning light illuminates him like a holy figure. When Geddy hands back the mug, Alex can't resist the urge to kiss him. Geddy's mouth is warm and coffee-bitter, and he pushes his free hand underneath Alex's t-shirt, fingers spreading over his stomach, and Alex finds he likes that Geddy is unafraid of his imperfections.

"You're beautiful," Alex says when their mouths are their own again, and Geddy's cheeks flush. "You're like... a home I never knew I had."

Geddy rolls his eyes, but his mouth's curved in an endearing smile. "Where'd you hear that one?"

"That's an original."

"Which explains why it's corny as hell." Geddy lifts the mug slightly, as though wanting a drink but unwilling to wash away the kiss so soon.

"You're not much of a smooth-talker yourself." Alex takes the mug from Geddy's hands so he's free to use them for more exploratory purposes.

Geddy shrugs with a mischievous smirk. "I got you in bed."

"Heartbreaker," Alex teases, moving in for another kiss.

Geddy whispers, "Never," against Alex's lips.

* * *

" _More grows in the garden, than the gardener knows he has planted._ " ~ Spanish proverb


End file.
